Facing the Truth
by Atuliel
Summary: AU. Snanger Danger. Severus is in love with Hermione. Ron is in love with Hermione. Hermione is confused.
1. Part 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Obviously. Otherwise, Harry Potter would have had a lot more smoochies between a certain Potions Master and an insufferable Know-It-All.

**A/N:** Follows canon until HBP. Dumbledore is crazy and Ron is a jerk in this story. You have been warned.

* * *

Severus was cranky. This being the usual state of his mood, no one really paid it any mind. Dumbledore made a few comments and offered a few lemon drops; Minerva leveled a glower at him now and then for scolding her precious Gryffindors; the students were a little quicker to flee from his presence, perhaps. But other than that, no one seemed to notice or care. So what if he was a little extra scathing in his remarks? And so what if he was deducting extra points for the most innocuous things? It wasn't exactly the front page news.

The difference was the reason for his mood. In celebration of the defeat of Voldemort, Dumbledore had decided to host another Yule Ball at Hogwarts, in spite of several protests from the Potions Master. It was to be the most joyous and ostentatious event since before the Dark Lord's return. Dumbledore was pulling out all the stops for the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and countless other guests they would be entertaining that year. Dumbledore's announcement had the school buzzing, the hormones flying (as well as the owls), and excitement stirring around the three banes of Severus' existence.

Every single girl seemed to be after Harry Potter, and those who weren't giggled and blushed each and every time they saw the Weasley boy. It had even caused a fight in his second years' Potions class. One girl apparently _knew_ Potter had looked at her the other day, while the other insisted that it had been her. He felt a little more than ill at the end of their explanation and ended up deducting several points from both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for their repeated breaches of the rules.

While the girls squabbled over Potter and Weasley, the boys were all about a Miss Hermione Granger—the third point of the Golden Trio. The younger boys saw her in the halls and scattered, cheeks going bright red. The older boys were a tad more forward: sending her flowers, chocolates—one even thought to play to her interests and sent her a book. Of course, it turned out to be a Quidditch book, which Miss Granger almost immediately handed off to her cohorts, returning to her meal shortly afterward. There was a rumor floating around that she would be attending with Neville Longbottom, but it was quickly quashed under Granger's heel. The truth of who the little Know-It-All would be attending with came out only two weeks before the dreaded night.

Viktor Krum would be doing the honors of escorting Miss Granger to the Yule Ball; apparently the two were making a tradition of it. Severus heard a Ravenclaw boy and girl speaking about the two in the corridors. According to their hushed conversation, Miss Granger and Mr. Krum were an item once again, much to the irritation of one Ronald Weasley and—though he refused to admit it until he was deep under his covers, safe in the darkness of his quarters—Severus.

Severus had fought his growing attraction to the girl with all his might—he even went so far as to use potions and spells to try and deflect it. But the magic worked the same way with hate as it did with love. It was fake, a mere mockery of the true feelings. He could no more bring himself to hate Miss Granger than he could bring himself to like Potter. In the end, in spite of all his efforts, he was left with a fresh new torment brought on simply by her presence. He attempted to blame his suffering on Miss Granger when she appeared in his classroom, but she would give him that customary smile she flashed at her teachers—although the one he received was admittedly pinched—and he would feel all of his resentment melt away.

She had grown into a beautiful woman over her seven years at Hogwarts. No longer was she the gawky, eager, frizzy-haired little child he had ignored and insulted. No, now she was strong, self-confident—she no longer felt the need to prove herself by foolishly waving her hand in the air at every opportunity. And her hair, although still an untamable mess, was at least less unruly now that she had had years of practice fighting with it.

"Lemon drop?"

Dumbledore's usual inquiry shook Severus from his reverie and he shot him a sour glare.

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself." Dumbledore smiled and popped the candy into his own mouth instead. "Now, I believe we were talking about the Yule Ball."

Severus leaned back in his chair, arms folding as an obvious display of his irritation.

"All staff will be required to attend," Dumbledore announced to his two favorite professors. "We don't want any of our students thinking that we don't know how to celebrate, do we?"

Severus' back went as stiff as a broomstick; Minerva merely nodded agreeably.

"Fair enough," she said primly. "Although I doubt you'll receive the same enthusiasm from the students."

"Surely, Headmaster, you don't think it's necessary for _all_ of Hogwarts' staff to supervise the ball," Severus interjected, not bothering to hide his displeasure at the idea of spending an entire night with those children he already had to see every day.

Not to mention, watching Miss Granger and her new beau parade around the Great Hall.

"Perhaps you're right, Severus," Dumbledore said after a long moment of consideration. "Mr. Filch has worked far too hard this year to be denied a night off."

The relief that he may yet escape from this stupid affair was immediately rushed out to be replaced by the familiar dread that curled up in his stomach and he scowled at Dumbledore. The man had the audacity to twinkle those eyes at him—as though he knew what he'd been asking for and simply refused to give it to him. Knowing the old coot, that was quite likely.

"I will inform him later," Dumbledore continued. "Now, Severus, I'd like to discuss the matter of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position with you."

Minerva shot Severus a look, but quickly mastered herself and turned back to Dumbledore with an expression of polite interest. Severus snarled silently at her, fairly sure she was thinking something derogatory about him.

"I have made a decision about who will fill the position, both temporarily and permanently," Dumbledore went on, feigning ignorance of the teachers' exchange. "For the next year, Professor Lupin has agreed to fill in, with the condition that he is allowed to search for other jobs while teaching here."

Severus' scowl grew and he fought a snort. Lupin was a mockery of a teacher, at best, and it had nothing to do with his…condition.

"However, after that, we will need someone to take the job more permanently. Severus, I have decided to hand the position to you," Dumbledore concluded, his eyes twinkling maddeningly.

Severus sat up in his chair, breath hitching. Had he really just heard what he thought he had? Minerva was smiling at him now, apparently delighted with her colleague's reaction.

"We will still need a Potions professor, which is why I've given you a year to teach an apprentice to take on the position," he said.

And there was the catch. Severus frowned.

"An apprentice?" he hissed.

Dumbledore knew full well Severus would never take an assistant on. Every time it had been suggested, he quickly brushed it aside. He preferred to work alone, not with some bumbling little teenager who would probably blow themselves—and Severus—up within the first week.

"Yes. I have not yet approached her about it, but I feel certain she will jump at the opportunity," the Headmaster replied, smiling widely.

Severus bristled in irritation. "So, you're not only forcing an assistant on me, but you are denying me the privilege of choosing the student myself?"

Dumbledore had the grace to look slightly apologetic. "I'm sorry, Severus. Normally I wouldn't choose for you, but this was a personal choice. You see, I have chosen her because she is the professor I want in the position. I believe she will make a fine addition to the staff."

"No doubt a Gryffindor, then," Severus commented, practically gnashing his teeth.

Minerva shot him a look, lips twitching unhappily. Dumbledore smiled patiently at his two professors.

"I _am_ sorry, Severus," he said with a twinkle.

Severus growled under his breath, glowering at the two Gryffindors. His arms folded tightly across his chest. He didn't like the idea of his dungeons being invaded by some silly little Gryffindor. And he would have to endure her company for a year!

Knowing Dumbledore, there was little Severus could do to change the old man's mind. Besides, after that year of suffering, he would end up in the position he'd wanted all along. Perhaps it could be tolerated, if it would help him to reach his goal.

After a moment, he reluctantly met Dumbledore's gaze and asked grudgingly, "Very well. Who is this mysterious Potions genius?"

Dumbledore and Minerva exchanged an elated glance, further tightening the coil of dread in Severus' stomach.

"Hermione Granger."

* * *

Hermione shook her head irritably as a stray piece of bishop flew past her ear. Harry was—once again—trying to beat Ron at Wizard's Chess, to no avail, of course. She flipped to the next page of her Advanced Transfiguration book after glowering at the pair; she was going to study if she had to hex every single person in the common room.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry called, shooting her a winning grin.

She sent him a withering glare, making his grin turn sheepish. As though to offer a truce, he automatically turned her thoughts from the pieces of marble nearly smacking into her with happier times ahead.

"So, did Viktor say when Durmstrang was coming in his letter?" he asked, eyes on the chess board.

Hermione sighed. "In a week."

"And have you decided what you'll be wearing?"

It had been a constant battle between them since Dumbledore had announced they'd be having another Yule Ball. Harry would bring up her dress, she would tell him she wasn't sure what she'd be wearing, and he would promptly offer to buy her one. He had, of course, already bought Ron and Ginny their robes for the event, but Hermione rejected his charity repeatedly, much to Harry's vexation. Although she appreciated the gesture, Hermione absolutely refused to let anyone else pay her way through anything.

"No, Harry. And no, you can't pay for it for me," she replied exasperatedly.

He feigned hurt. "I never said anything about paying for you! Ron, did you hear me say anything about paying for her?"

Ron shook his head, a smile playing across his lips. "Not a word."

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring the grins they gave her.

"And have you chosen a date out of your harem?" she countered, smirking with delight as Ron's face went pale.

Normally, Harry's would as well, but instead he shot her another cheeky grin and puffed his chest out. Ron, on the other hand, muttered for one of his pawns to move and proceeded to avoid Hermione's probing gaze.

"Actually, I have," Harry replied proudly.

"Oh? And who is the lucky lady?" Hermione retorted, smiling genuinely now.

"Ginny."

"Ginny? I thought she was going with Dean!" she said, surprised.

Harry's grin only grew. "They had a…misunderstanding."

"And you made your move." She couldn't help but tease a little—after all, he _was_ keeping her from studying. "How very Slytherin of you, Harry."

He bristled indignantly, looking on the verge of an outburst when he saw the mischievous grin she was shooting him. Rolling his eyes, he returned to the chess board and, shaking his head at her, ordered his remaining bishop to move. With one word to his rook, Ron had knocked the last bishop out.

"And you, Ron?" Hermione prompted. "Have you narrowed it down any?"

He frowned glumly. "No."

"You could always take Lavender," she suggested, trying to be helpful.

Ron looked at her in alarm. "Don't you let her hear you say that! Good God, woman, I don't want to have to go through that again."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, come on, you know you adored how clingy she was."

"I did _not_!"

"You kind of did," Harry agreed quietly.

"Just for that, I'm taking out your last rook," Ron replied sharply.

Harry glanced at Hermione, giving a defeated shrug.

"I don't know why I bother."

She shook her head. "Nor do I."

"What about Luna? Or Hannah? Or maybe one of the Patil twins?" Harry suggested after a beat.

Ron scoffed. "Those two won't look at either of us since the _last_ Yule Ball we had. Hannah is going with Seamus—or Dean. It seems she can't decide since Ginny and Dean had their row. And Luna? She's positively mental, Harry!"

"At least she's not _negatively_ mental," Hermione quipped, smirking when he glared at her again.

"That's entirely beside the point," he said severely.

Hermione rolled her eyes and attempted to go back to the page she'd been at, in the hopes that they would continue the conversation without her.

"Maybe you can try making it up to Padma," Harry suggested with a helpless shrug.

"Unlike _some_ people"—and here he sent Hermione a dour glare—"I don't re-enter dead relationships."

Hermione kept her eyes glued to her book, pretending not to notice Ron's infuriation with her. Harry cleared his throat to break his friend's concentration on glowering at Hermione.

"Well, then, I don't know what to tell you, Ron," he commented, ordering his queen to take out one of Ron's pawns. "Maybe you should consider going stag."

"No!" he protested vehemently. "I don't want to be the _only_ one without a date!"

"You wouldn't be the only one," Harry replied helpfully. "All staff members are required to come—so it'd be you and Snape. Hey! Maybe you should ask _him_."

He ducked, narrowly avoiding the pillow Ron threw at him. Hermione rolled her eyes as their Wizard's Chess was abandoned in favor of trying to beat the tar out of each other. _Boys_, she thought irritably.

* * *

In the week that passed before most of Hogwarts' guests would be arriving, things passed as usual, with the exception of a few Howlers being sent to Ginny Weasley at various points during the day. Eventually, Dumbledore put a stop to it, but only after Miss Granger approached him and pointed out what was happening. Or so Minerva had told Severus.

Luckily, there were no more fights breaking out in the middle of his class, and all members of the Golden Trio were, at last, taken. The general buzz around them died out, with girls and boys merely shooting disappointed glances at them as they passed through the halls. Rumors still circulated concerning Krum and Miss Granger's relationship; for the most part, they entailed of lines from passionate love letters the two were sending back and forth.

With the knowledge that Krum and Miss Granger had revived their relationship, and Severus was to suffer a year's torment of her company, he became more of a tyrant than ever. The students ceased speaking when he was around—they were too frightened that they would receive reductions in points that would send their House out of the running for the House Cup.

He avoided Miss Granger and her followers as much as possible, which gave the Gryffindors an unexpected break from his rage. Potter and Weasley were easy enough to avoid—they returned the favor willingly; it was Miss Granger who gave him trouble. He was able to avoid meals in the Great Hall, but when it came time for Advanced Potions, it was impossible. She was always there—early, usually—in the front row seat, staring at him.

Presently, she was gazing anxiously in his direction, wringing her hands almost nervously as her cohorts goofed off around her. Severus wondered at the object of her gaze, glancing at the rest of the staff and the students pressed up around them. The doors let in a cold draft as Hagrid shoved them open and Miss Granger's eyes lit up as the Durmstrang students filed in. The student body began clapping furiously for the return of their friends, but Severus' scowl deepened when he saw the tall alumnus enter next to the school's headmaster.

Viktor Krum raked through the crowd for her, a grin spreading across his cheeks as his eyes fell on Miss Granger.

"Herm-own-ninny!" he called joyously, sending a ripple of "ooh"s and "aah"s through the watching students.

Miss Granger made an amused face. "Viktor!"

She pushed through the crowd and, once she reached Krum, threw her arms around his neck. He hugged her back, much to the delight of the now-whispering students. Severus' lips twitched as he seriously considered deducting points from her. He feared, however, that any speech would result in the inquiry of why she was with the bumbling Bulgarian. It was far too much to ask of his self-control.

Miss Granger sank to her heels and grinned up at Krum, taking his arm in hers and dragging him off through the crowd.

"Come on, I have to show you something!" she announced, ignoring the disappointed looks from the students watching.

Weasley glowered after the retreating pair and turned sharply back to his date for the Yule Ball. Severus was surprised to find that he could—for once—empathize with the Weasley boy's anger. He snorted at his own ridiculousness and swept away, ignoring Dumbledore's call after him.

* * *

At dinner that evening, Hermione sat next to Viktor, pretending she didn't notice that Ron kept sending death rays in her direction. As far as she was concerned, if he'd wanted to take her himself, he should've asked. Besides, he was going with Susan now—what right did he have to be upset? Harry and Ginny were…involved with each other on her other side, much to Ron's disgust. His dagger eyes flicked between the two couples repeatedly.

Hermione smiled up at Viktor and stabbed her potatoes with her fork, listening to him describe his Quidditch triumphs of the year. Well, barely. Quidditch still couldn't hold her attention any longer than she forced it to, and that got exhausting. Besides, she kept getting distracted by a tingle that kept creeping up her spine every now and then. Like she was being watched.

Seamus asked Viktor a question, so Hermione took the opportunity to look around for whoever was staring. She could see no one at any of the four tables, so she decided to look over the staff, though she had her doubts about anyone _there_ staring at her. So it was to her surprise when she scanned over Dumbledore and found Snape _glaring_ at her. His eyes narrowed threateningly when he noticed she had caught him, so she quickly looked away.

The tingle, however, didn't stop and she felt more and more self-conscious. She surreptitiously lifted her hand to lean her head on, hiding her face from his view. Confusion swirled her thoughts as she puzzled over the Potions Master's rather strong protest to her existence. She hadn't been expecting this.

Granted, Snape was never exactly _nice_, but he hadn't been paying as much attention to her in class. She couldn't remember the last time he had insulted her or taken away points from her. At first, she had been puzzled by the behavior, but after a while she just put it to his lightening mood since Voldemort's defeat. And, failing that, a lack of insults left to throw at her.

Apparently someone made a joke, because the boys around her began to chuckle. Viktor looked at her so she forced out a laugh, ending it with a miserable grunt as a chill traveled up her back.

"Why is Professor Snape looking at me?" she muttered anxiously, glancing up at the Head Table once before hiding behind her hand again.

Viktor and the rest of them looked all at once and she rolled her eyes. Subtlety was clearly not a strong suit of the male side of the species.

"Looks more like he's trying to Obliviate you with his eyes," Ron commented, still watching the professor.

"Thanks, Ron," she said sardonically. "I feel _loads_ better now."

He mumbled sheepishly and Viktor patted her back.

"Do not vorry, Herm-own-ninny. He has looked avay now," he assured her comfortingly.

"He's probably just mad because he hasn't been able to give you anything lower than an Outstanding for the past seven years," Harry said cheerfully, pulling his lips from Ginny long enough to smile at Hermione.

"Yeah, and he's running out of chances!" Seamus agreed.

The rest of the group laughed and Hermione managed a smile, lowering her hand again and glancing up at Snape. He was now involved in conversation with Dumbledore and McGonagall, his anger at Hermione apparently forgotten. She chewed her lower lip, considering him, before Viktor drew her attention away again.

* * *

Severus stood next to Minerva while Filius and Dumbledore finished the rest of the decorations. The Great Hall looked sickeningly festive: the ceiling mimicked the winter wonderland outside, all of the decorations were white or silver, and even the dance floor imitated the look of the frozen lake. Pine trees with charmed decorations were in each corner, as though Christmas hadn't already passed.

He shifted uncomfortably in his place as Dumbledore informed his staff of what could be punished and what couldn't. Apparently snogging wasn't breaking the rules tonight. And even though all-out shagging was, Severus couldn't help but droop. Once Dumbledore moved away to start opening the doors to let students in, Minerva turned to smile at Severus' sour expression.

"Oh, relax, Severus," she said lightly. "It's not as though he told you that you can't give exams this year."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "It would be appreciated if you would not bring that horrendous year to memory again."

"Horrendous? With all the grading we _didn't_ have to do?" Minerva retorted, as though to get on his nerves.

"Am I the only one who views a lack of exams as a misfortune, and not a blessing?" he snapped irritably.

She considered him for a moment. "No. I believe Miss Granger was just as devastated by the loss as you were."

Severus merely glowered into space, keeping his arms folded tightly. His lack of control a few days before hadn't gone unnoticed, as he had hoped, and he'd had to school himself to ignore her even more after Miss Granger saw his disapproval at dinner. It was proving a difficult assignment, at best, and one he loathed even more than his growing affections for the witch.

"At least you will have _something_ to discuss in your time together," Minerva commented, shaking him again from his reverie.

"What?" he growled, fearing he'd been found out.

"She _is_ to be your apprentice, is she not?" she asked, looking surprised.

Severus grumbled to himself incoherently and walked away from the older woman. Conversations were far too exhausting.

* * *

Hermione surveyed herself in the mirror one more time before she would have to join Ginny in their trek downstairs. Her hair had taken a full two hours to tame into the flattering curls that now caressed her neck, seeming to exaggerate the length of it. She had pulled most of it into a bun, but Lavender insisted that a few hanging tendrils from the front would be most becoming on her. Now she could see her point. It was weird, being able to see her ears, and the small, sparkling earrings her mother had sent her.

The dress was off-the-shoulders, which she normally didn't like, but now that she had grown, it had quite a gratifying effect. She felt almost shy at seeing her pale skin exposed until the strap high on her arm. There was a modest, but obvious, V in the chest, leaving her looking "deliciously mysterious," as Lavender put it. The rest of the dress was plain and form-fitting, until her hips, where the fabric began to stretch out to a more flowing skirt—most appropriate for dancing.

Fitting with the maroon color of the dress, she had on heels of the same color, which Ginny and Hermione had transfigured back and forth several times—each insisting that the height was inappropriate, in opposite directions, of course. Hermione could appreciate how nicely the heel set off her legs, making them look a little longer. All in all, she approved of her appearance—elegant and sophisticated.

Hermione pulled the black wrap around her shoulders, nodding once, and went out to meet Ginny.

"All right, let's go see the boys," Hermione said upon her entrance, linking arms with her friend.

Ginny giggled delightedly, almost trotting ahead. They made a grand entrance down the stairs, enjoying the stunned silly looks on the boys' faces. Harry bounded forward to take Ginny's hand as she descended them. Neville, seeing that no one else was going to do the honors for Hermione, hurried forward and, to her surprise, offered his hand. She smiled widely at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Longbottom," she said poshly, putting on the air of an aristocrat.

Once she reached the bottom step, Neville bowed with a flourish.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Granger," he replied, making the rest of the group laugh.

Harry came over and kissed her on the cheek. "You look lovely, Hermione."

She was—for once—grateful for the makeup Lavender had put on her as she felt herself start to flush at his surprisingly gentlemanly compliment.

"Thank you, Harry," she said softly.

He smiled. "And you!" he exclaimed, turning on Ginny. "You look…delicious!"

Ginny squealed as he picked her up and whirled her around the room. Ron narrowly avoided his sister's heels as Harry swung her about, but he barely seemed to notice, his eyes going back to Hermione. She felt his gaze and smoothed her dress, feeling a little uncomfortable at his obvious ogling.

"We should go down. You don't want to miss your date, Neville," she commented, patting him on the shoulder.

"Of course not, Miss Granger. I daresay it would be unforgivable, were I to be late," Neville rejoined, continuing their game.

She laughed and took his arm when he offered it, heading toward the portrait hole with Ron, Harry, and Ginny trailing behind them.

* * *

Severus watched Miss Granger enter the Great Hall among the throng of students, clinging tightly to the arm of Viktor Krum. Potter and the Weasley girl followed shortly behind, following them to a table with Longbottom, the Weasley boy, and their unfortunate dates. The group sat and chattered eagerly, leaning over each other to be heard over the noise of the other students talking. He was finding it difficult to see how Miss Granger had chosen to dress herself through the crowd, but he supposed it was best—no need to spur his wayward attraction on.

Tonight there would be no "music" from a band of little to no talent, which Severus was surprised did not disappoint most of the students when Dumbledore made the announcement. Filius started up the instruments and nearly every couple moved onto the dance floor. Others floated toward the punch, leading Severus over to the table as well, to be sure no mischief was going on.

Even as he chastised a Gryffindor for attempting to mix in a little Firewhiskey with his punch, Severus couldn't help but notice Krum twirling Miss Granger about on the dance floor. Her deep red skirt spun out with her, emphasizing the length of her legs. When she returned to Krum's arms, she was grinning delightedly up at him, obviously complimenting him on his dancing skill. Severus drew himself up. He would not be bested by some brainless Bulgarian. There was one area in which Miss Granger would _know_ her partner was lacking.

He quickly ended his tirade at the fifth year and sent the boy off with a points deduction and a week's detention. To his disappointment, Krum and Miss Granger remained on the floor for the next dance, continuing in their joyous frolic. Weasley, he noted, was able to pull himself away from his jealousy enough to dance with his date. At least that little obstacle would be out of the way for when he showed Miss Granger how a real partner should handle her.

While Severus paced impatiently at the sidelines, gnashing his teeth, Krum steered Miss Granger around the dance floor twice more before the two went for refreshments. They both drank heavily of the pumpkin juice that had been provided, shooting each other smiles every now and then. Miss Granger was set upon by her friends' dates, so Krum stood protectively by while she chatted with the group.

Severus drew himself up to his full height and swept his robes out of the way as he strode purposefully over to the Bulgarian. Students scattered to either side as he brushed past them, pulling their dates out of the way to keep them from being trampled. Krum noted his approach and gave a stiff nod.

"Can I be of some assistance to you, Professor?" Krum asked, almost warily.

"I was wondering if I might secure a dance with your partner later on this evening," Severus replied, without preamble.

His eyes wandered to Miss Granger, who was apparently oblivious to their conversation and his presence.

"I do not know, Professor. You vill have to ask Herm-own-ninny," Krum said hesitantly, glancing at his date.

Severus winced. If he mispronounced her name one more time….

"_Hermione_," he corrected emphatically.

Miss Granger whirled suddenly, skirt flowing out a bit. She fixed the men with a surprised stare.

"What?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably. This wasn't exactly how he'd been planning for this to go…. But, like a true Slytherin, he pulled himself together, offering Krum a questioning look. Krum merely nodded once and Severus turned sharply to face Miss Granger, who was gazing at him with rapt attention. He placed one fist on his hip and extended the other hand to her.

"Would you care to dance, Miss Granger?" he asked silkily, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

The girls behind Miss Granger giggled and gasped, as though it were the most scandalous thing they'd ever seen happen. He expected her to blush and shush her friends, giving in to his request out of fear of what he would do if she didn't accept. Instead, Miss Granger met his gaze seriously, ignoring the girls behind her, and took his offered hand. The little girls gasped this time—no giggles, as their friend replied.

"I would love to, Professor," Miss Granger said, no hint of mocking in her voice.

Severus tried to ignore how warm her hand felt around his as he grasped it, leading her away from the gaggle of girls and the stoic Bulgarian. He brought her to an empty space on the dance floor and turned sharply, shifting his grasp on her hand to the appropriate position. She stepped up to him with no trace of fear in her eyes, though he could feel her hand shaking in his. He brought his other hand up to cup her shoulder blade, surprised to find bare skin that quivered under his touch. He lowered his hand enough so that none of his fingers would touch her soft skin, and she rested her hand on his arm. All that was left to do was dance.

Severus met her eyes again, but she ducked her head quickly, chewing on her lower lip. He carefully began to move, guiding her rather than driving her about the dance floor. His robes swept around them as she followed his steps, keeping her eyes locked on their feet, unlike with Krum. He frowned, deeply displeased with this. He knew he would have to say something eventually, or he'd never get her to look at him. What to say, though?

He was terribly distracted from his quest for words by the nearness of the object of his affections. His fingers tingled from their brush with her naked skin, yearning to touch her again in that intimate way. A part of his mind was screaming at him to wrap her up in his robes and give her the most dizzying kiss of her life. She was all too gorgeous in that dress of hers—no one else should be allowed to see it. And yet Krum had the privilege. He found himself sneering at the thought.

"I trust you're enjoying your renewed relationship with that walking block of wood," Severus said at last, startling Miss Granger into meeting his eyes.

"What? Oh! Y-you mean Viktor?" she asked, looking thoroughly confused.

"Are you attending this dance with anyone else, Miss Granger?" he retorted pointedly.

She avoided his eyes again, seeming ashamed that she hadn't been as quick as usual.

"Viktor and I aren't back together, Professor," she said after a moment, meeting his gaze again. "We are attending the ball as friends." His silence apparently made her uncomfortable, for she went on. "See, no one had asked me and, well, the weeks were winding down, and so I wrote Viktor and he offered to take me. And we got on well when he was here, and we're still good friends, so I agreed. We didn't really consider going down that road again at all, even though some people seem to think we have and I don't really see why since neither of us has said or done anything to encourage the notion. In fact, Viktor has been rather taken with Pansy Parkinson, although he's a little hesitant since she had Death Eater tendencies and he doesn't want to date someone who's evil, after all. I was quite surprised by his choice, but I suppose Pansy could be considered pretty if you haven't known her to be a vicious bully for years. And I'm not a man, so I guess I can't see the…appeal of-of another…yeah."

Her eyes dropped as she noted Severus' amused expression while she babbled on, apparently taking his amusement for annoyance. As bemused as he was, he didn't want her to fall into silence again, so he brought up the first thing that came to mind.

"I also trust that the Headmaster has approached you about your position next year," Severus said smoothly, nearly smirking when she looked at him in alarm.

"My…position?" she squeaked.

"Yes. If you are willing, he wishes you to be my apprentice and, following that, the new Potions professor," he explained, watching her visibly relax with puzzled eyes.

"But…what about _your_ job, Professor?" she asked concernedly.

"I will be taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts," Severus replied, filled with greedy pleasure at her apparent worry over him. "Assuming you can bring yourself to work with me for the next year."

Miss Granger stammered, avoiding his eyes—again. "I-I…of course, Professor. I-it would be an honor to be able to work with you. I just…Potions professor! I-I wasn't expecting…." She trailed off, embarrassed.

Half-relieved that she wouldn't be leaving his orbit too soon, and half-dreading the coming year of torture with her closeness, Severus watched her with twitching lips. She wasn't looking at him again. Unsure of what to say now, he brought his hand up and spun her out, twirling her easily a couple times before pulling her back in. Another smile played across his lips as he saw the same carefree, easy smile on her face as she had worn with Krum. A delighted laugh escaped her in her surprise as she came back to meet him, placing her hand easily into his again.

* * *

"What is she _thinking_?" Ginny asked the surrounding Gryffindors, eyes on her apparently ecstatic friend. "I mean…it's _Snape_!"

"Maybe she's thinking...'I don't want to get a million points deducted from my House for refusing to dance with a teacher,'" Harry said boredly, shrugging.

"Like he would deduct points for that," Lavender scoffed with a snort.

Everyone stared at her, so she shifted uncomfortably and tucked herself closer to Terry, who patted her back.

"All right. Assuming that's true…she doesn't have to look _happy_ about it," Ginny continued after a moment.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "She doesn't have to try to please the great git."

Harry shrugged again, rolling his eyes.

"I think they look sweet," Susan commented softly, eliciting a sharp glare from her date.

"They do!" Parvati piped up. "Look at how he's dancing with her—he's almost being…gentlemanly. None of you boys ever handle us girls like _that_!"

The boys shifted uncomfortably, avoiding their dates' narrowed eyes.

"They do not look sweet!" Ron snapped forcefully. "It's disgusting! How could she dance with that thing?"

"She looks like she's enjoying herself," Neville replied, wrapping an arm around Parvati's shoulders. "Maybe that's how."

Ron seethed and Harry huffed, seeing that this was going to be a long battle.

"Look—Hermione's happy. He's not hurting her," Harry said before his friend exploded at Neville. "I'm not seeing how this is a bad thing."

"She's not happy! She can't be!" Ron roared, turning toward the dance floor again as though to ascertain if his friend's words were true.

Sure enough, Hermione was smiling bashfully as Snape sent her out for another spin and brought her back in. His every touch looked almost like a caress on her; he even wore a crooked, barely visible smile as he took in his partner's graceful movements. Ron whirled again, fists clenching.

"She's faking it! She's afraid of him, and she's faking it! He's got her under a spell!" he insisted furiously. "Where's Krum? He's supposed to be protecting her! How could he let her dance with him?"

"Okay, Ron, I can hardly believe she agreed to dance with him, either, but I don't think that Professor Snape would put her under some kind of enchantment," Ginny said firmly. "Besides, what spell could he possibly have used? 'Dancio'?"

The couples around her laughed, but Ron fumed at his little sister.

"I'll bet it's the Imperius Curse! He was a Death Eater—he wouldn't think twice about it!" he continued, not even noticing Susan slip away to sit with some of the girls, rather than with him. "How could Dumbledore let him stay at the school?!"

"Uh, Ron, I don't think it's the Imperius. She's not jerky. Actually…she's kind of moving…smoothly," Harry noted, watching Hermione thoughtfully.

"Hey, eyes up here," Ginny ordered, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes.

"No, no! I wasn't—I was just noticing…she's actually being graceful. I mean, our Hermione…being graceful," he replied hastily, looking puzzled. "She's usually all clumsy and ungainly and stuff."

"She's not _that_ clumsy," Neville cut in defensively.

"Okay, she's usually rigid," Harry retorted, shrugging.

Neville sighed. He couldn't really argue with that. Hermione _was_ extremely straitlaced, and it often showed in her posture and movements. It was a rare occasion when she moved with such elegance and poise—it usually only happened when she was doing a spell. But as Snape dipped her toward the dance floor, Hermione actually seemed…relaxed. She smiled up at their professor freely and without any trace of fear that he would suddenly drop her to the floor.

Ron scowled. "I don't care what it is. She shouldn't be dancing with that slimy git! Someone ought to bring her to her senses!"

"Well, if you decide to find your inner Gryffindor, just don't tell Snape that I said he looked sweet," Parvati said after the rest of the group just exchanged glances. "I'd rather not spend the rest of the year in the hospital wing."

Ron wasn't amused, but the rest of the group descended into easy laughter.

* * *

"It looks like Severus has found some tolerable company," Minerva commented to Dumbledore, shooting him a smile and gesturing toward the dancing pair.

Dumbledore's eyes lit up immediately. "And with a Gryffindor, too! I never thought I'd see the day."

"Neither did I."

"The old boy _does_ seem to be enjoying himself, doesn't he?" he asked, peering closer at the usually scowling professor.

"I know that look," Minerva cut into his thoughts quickly. "And you are hereby forbidden to interfere."

"I wasn't going to do a thing!" he protested, his twinkling eyes betraying him.

"Of course you weren't," she replied sarcastically. "Because Severus gives attention to women every day. No reason to be tempted to mix in a little cursed mistletoe, or drop some Amortentia into Severus' tea, or perhaps start Miss Granger's apprenticeship a few months early."

"As you say. No reason at all," Dumbledore said mysteriously.

Minerva glared at him down her nose. "Albus, if you try anything, I will personally change all of your lemon drops into Every Flavor Beans—only it won't be _every_ flavor," she said meaningfully.

He blanched. "All right, calm down, Minerva. I only wished to help him along a little. Severus is rather clueless when it comes to romance, after all."

"And any interference from you will have him running from her as though she were a mountain troll," she warned, shaking her head.

Dumbledore promptly rested his chin on his fist, looking for all the world like a five year old who'd just been told he couldn't have a candy bar. _Well_, he comforted himself, _at least there will be the apprenticeship to push them together…._

_

* * *

_

Severus spun Miss Granger out from him again, only to pull her back once more. It seemed she was a little surprised this time that he didn't spin her twice, because she stumbled a bit and landed flat up against his chest. He braced her as she came to a stop, eyes widening in surprise at the way she seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms. She was breathing a bit heavily as she regained her bearings.

"Sorry, Professor. I must've lost my balance," Miss Granger explained, seeming unaware of his proximity. "These stupid shoes…."

She trailed off as she met his eyes, the smile she'd been wearing fading away to a cascade of emotions. Confusion, surprise, fear, even, all swept across her face before she pulled herself away. Severus felt the urge to tug her back up against him, but instead let her go, watching as she began smoothing out her dress in an agitated manner—she seemed flustered.

"I think she's had enough of _your_ company," a rough, angry voice barked from beside them.

The Weasley boy stood there, hands balled into fists, and face as red as his hair. He practically shook with impotent rage, facing Severus without a hint of fear. His fury was making him even dumber than usual.

Miss Granger whirled on the boy, all traces of agitation replaced by pure horror. "Ron!"

"Well, you have, haven't you?" Weasley snapped, as though it weren't a question. "I think the Greasy Git has taken enough of your time."

"What do you think you're doing?" Miss Granger demanded, snatching his arm as though to pull him out of harm's way.

He shoved her off and Severus found himself reaching for his wand, bristling in her defense.

"I'm pulling you back to your senses," Weasley said harshly.

"I am fully capable of making my own decisions, Ronald Weasley," she retorted, horror turning to anger.

"Obviously not! I mean, bloody hell, Hermione! It's _Snape_!"

"_And_?"

"And I'm getting you out of here, before he has a chance to take even more advantage of you," Weasley growled, snatching her elbow forcefully and yanking her away.

Before Severus could move to stop the Weasley boy, Miss Granger wrenched her arm out of his grasp and rubbed the red spot furiously, glaring at him.

"You're _hurting_ me," she said sharply, backing away when he took a step closer.

Severus took two long steps forward and placed himself so he was towering over Weasley, glowering down at him with all the disgust he could muster.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor," he said nastily, glaring at the boy.

He saw the light go on over Weasley's head as he realized what he'd just gotten himself into. Fear crept into his dull eyes and he withered under Severus' gaze, turning to Miss Granger instead. He gave her an apologetic look, and Severus was on the verge of commanding the boy from his sight when Miss Granger came forward and stepped between them. She looked up at him, chin slightly lifted and anger darkening her eyes.

"Thank you for the dance, Professor," she said politely, curtsying.

Severus sneered at Weasley over her head and bowed in turn.

"I'll see you in class on Tuesday." Miss Granger turned on her heel and tugged on Weasley's shirt, leading him toward the doors. "We need to talk," Severus heard her say as she dragged the boy off.

* * *

Hermione slammed the giant door shut as hard as she could—which merely resulted in a thud, but Ron still quivered under her harsh gaze. He had never seen her this angry before, nor had he seen Snape so hateful toward him before. The combination of fear, guilt, and apprehension made his stomach churn. He wanted to run to the lavatory, but knew it would be better to weather Hermione's anger—she would just be more upset if he left.

"I can't believe you just did that!" she snapped, voice reaching new levels. "Do you realize how lucky you are? He could've given you a month's detention for what you just did! Not to mention, I could've let him continue to try to kill you with his eyes after what you just did! I mean, what were you thinking? What made you think it was all right to try and manhandle me?"

Ron wrung his hands. "Look, I-I'm sorry! Really, I am. I-I just got carried away. I was just so upset—"

"_Why_? I was just dancing with our teacher!" she shot back vehemently. "What's to get upset about?"

"You just looked so happy, I—"

"And there's something wrong with that? Me, being happy?"

"I just didn't want you to be happy with _him_!"

Hermione froze and Ron panicked immediately. Hermione speechless was never a good thing. He looked about the hall, as though searching for some way to turn back time and take it back.

"I-I mean—"

"You didn't want me to be happy with Professor Snape?" she interrupted, folding her arms and seeming all too calm. "Why him, in particular?"

"N-not just him. Anyone. I-I was jealous of Krum, all right?" Ron stammered, blushing fiercely at his confession. "And when I saw you smiling at Snape, I just snapped. It was too much! I want you to be happy, Hermione. But I want you to be happy with _me_."

When Hermione just stared at him, Ron drooped, gaze dropping to the floor. It was only when he heard her sigh that his hope flared up again.

"All right, Ron…what is it that you expect from me?" she asked seriously, meeting his eyes.

He shook his head rapidly. "I-I don't expect…I just want to be with you. That's all."

She hesitated, frowning deeply. "Okay. Okay, w-we can talk about us. And I can forgive you this time."

Ron exhaled, relaxing visibly. A grin teased at his lips, but it faltered when she shot him a threatening look.

"But if you _ever_ touch me like that again, you'll be _lucky_ to end up in St. Mungo's," she said lowly. "Do you understand?"

He gulped, nodding hastily. "Yeah, yeah, I do."

After a tense moment while that settled in, Ron raised his arms to her, reaching for a hug. He smiled weakly and she hesitated a second before releasing some of the tension from her frame and meeting his embrace. Ron grinned as he rested his chin against her bare neck, feeling her readjust her grip on his shoulders as she sighed. Hermione dropped her angry façade as she looked over the redhead's shoulder, relieved that she could let the building confusion she had felt since Snape asked her to dance show through at last.


	2. Part 2

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine.

* * *

2 Years Later…

Severus listened to the familiar knock on his door and suppressed a small smile. Ever since she had become his apprentice, Hermione insisted on having a "secret knock" so they would each know it was the other entering. He had protested at first, pointing out that it was senseless since they already had so many wards on their doors as it was, but she was adamant.

"Enter," he called to her, watching as the recently appointed Potions professor pushed open his door and practically bounded up to his desk.

"I have some mail for you!" she announced eagerly, offering him a gold-lettered envelope as she sat on the corner of his desk.

He normally refused to allow anyone this privilege, but Hermione's case was still…special to him. Minerva had discovered her sitting there once and brought it up to Severus, which had caused some troublesome conversations, but he eventually managed to convince her that he merely let her do it because he was tired of telling her not to.

Presently, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the envelope with a frown.

"Isn't that what owls are for, Miss Granger?" he inquired teasingly.

She lifted her chin haughtily. "I wanted to make a personal delivery, but if you're going to be that way about it, I'll just send Crookshanks over with yours."

Severus snorted at the image of the half-Kneazle carrying the envelope into his room and took the proffered parchment. Hermione watched him excitedly, practically bouncing on the spot in her impatience for him to finish reading the card within it. As he scanned the lines, his mood immediately lowered, scowl returning as he glared at the blasted thing.

"We haven't set a specific date yet, but we know sometime in June, so I don't have to worry about work," she chattered elatedly, seeing that he had finished. "So, will you come?"

Ignoring the throbbing in his jaw, Severus carefully laid down the invitation to Hermione and Weasley's wedding, afraid that he would begin ripping it to shreds. For the past two years, Hermione had gone on about her relationship with Weasley to him, but each time she brought him up, it came with a complaint. He never thought she'd actually….

He hadn't exactly expected their dance at the Yule Ball or the year they spent working together to change much—in fact, he'd been quite delighted by the friendship they had developed. However, his wayward feelings hadn't gone away, either. In fact, they only grew stronger the more time he was able to spend with her. So, he found his jealousy peeking back up with surprising force. He couldn't possibly watch her marry another man.

"I can't," he choked out at last, avoiding her eyes.

He missed the fleeting hurt in her eyes. "Well, sure you can! I mean, school will be over, so you won't have to worry about that. And it'll be a month after May, so your exams will already be graded. And I'm sure Spinner's End can live without you for a day, Severus! It's just one day, after all, and you're away from it all year! You ca—"

"Hermione," Severus said softly, effectively ending her ramble.

She gazed at him curiously as he stood and rubbed his forehead. The obliviousness in her gaze made him think twice about revealing his true reasons for not being able to attend. She obviously had no inkling of his affections for her, and now was definitely not the time to reveal them. Rejection was something he wasn't exactly in the mood for, after all.

"I can't watch you make that grave of a mistake," Severus said at last, meeting her eyes again. At least that part was true.

Hermione feigned ignorance, putting false cheer into her voice as she asked, "What do you mean?"

He sighed, shifting. "Hermione, I would rather not attend a wedding that will only end in divorce. Weasley cannot be faithful to you."

For the first time, understanding seemed to seep into her eyes and she abruptly stood, frowning up at him.

"What do you mean? Ron loves me—he would never cheat on me," Hermione retorted defiantly, raising her chin.

"There is a difference between want and love," Severus shot back, immediately regretting the words as he said them.

She inhaled sharply, fuming. "How dare you? You know nothing about my relationship with Ron. He _loves_ me. And I love him."

Severus grimaced. "Hermione, listen to me. If you marry him, you will only get hurt. I'm not telling this to make you angry, or to hurt you. I'm saying this because…." He faltered, watching the fire in her eyes.

Though they had formed a friendship, neither had ever come close to admitting that they cared about the other. Of course, it had never needed to be said, he reflected. It was there, in the little things. How he let her sit on his desk; how she would leave him little notes to remind him to smile in the books she returned after a brief borrowing; how they had come around to calling each other by each other's given names; how they sat next to one another for meals in the Great Hall. Implication was one thing, though. Saying it was entirely different.

"Because what?" she snapped, pulling him back to reality. "Because you can't stand to see anyone else happy because you're so miserable yourself?"

He ground his teeth together. "That's not it."

"Then what is?" she demanded, eyes almost seeming to crackle with anger. "Is it some form of petty vengeance? Because of the years you spent hating me, Ron, and Harry without gratification?"

"This is not about hatred, Hermione!" Severus hissed, scowling at her. "I do not want to see you hurt, and you _will_ be hurt if you marry Weasley. He doesn't love you."

The hurt in her eyes was quickly masked over by a courageous glower. She stood up straight and looked him directly in the eye, glaring unmercifully.

"Ron loves me, and we are going to be married," she said firmly, "and we're going to be happy, whether you like it or not." She took a deep breath. "And don't worry about your invitation. I don't want you there anyway."

Severus felt that blow hit him like the Cruciatus Curse. He nearly staggered, staring into her brave face as she held his gaze.

"Severus, Hermione?" Minerva's voice interrupted from the doorway. "Am I…interrupting something?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and turned to face the other professor.

"No, Professor. We're finished," she replied, stepping away from Severus with stiff, measured steps. "He's all yours."

The door slammed shut behind her and Severus sank into his chair again, almost forgetting the presence of his colleague.

"Nicely done, Severus." Her words seemed to echo his own thoughts. "Perhaps I _should've_ let Albus interfere with you two."

He snapped his cold gaze onto Minerva. "Did you want something?" he snapped scathingly.

Minerva scowled sternly at him, approaching his desk slowly. Her eyes wandered down to the wedding invitation on his desk and he quickly shoved it under some papers. She sighed and shook her head at him.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I meant to warn you about this, but, well…obviously she beat me to it," Minerva said softly.

"What on earth are you on about?" he snarled, glaring up at her through the handy shield his hair provided.

"Hermione's wedding, of course," she replied, more harshly now. "And don't pretend it doesn't affect you."

"It doesn't," he muttered, folding his arms and staring up at her with his famous scowl.

"Severus Snape, you are the most stubborn man I've ever met," she said exasperatedly. "Which I suppose makes you two all the more perfect for each other…but that's beside the point."

"What _is_ your point?" he snapped.

"My point is that I know you love her, I'm your friend, and I am here for you," she retorted sharply.

Severus scowled up at her and slowly, carefully, drew himself up out of the chair. He stared at her intently, taking his time in forming a cutting remark.

"How very like a Gryffindor to jump to conclusions, Minerva," he purred, adjusting his robes to cover him more completely. "I do not love Professor Granger. Our argument was merely the result of a disagreement over the intelligence of the groom. Therefore your…pity is unnecessary and unwelcome." He sneered. "Now, if you have nothing of more importance to say, I have essays to grade."

Minerva stiffened and sniffed superiorly, turning on her heel and exiting the dungeons without a glance backward.

* * *

Hermione shoved open the door to her office and pushed it shut behind her, running shaking hands over her face. Tears were burning at her eyes, and she took deep breaths, commanding herself to get a grip. So Severus didn't think she would have her happily ever after with Ron. What did that matter? Ron loved her, and they _would_ be happy.

"Uh…this a bad time?"

She jumped and reached instinctively for her wand, only to find Harry standing on the other side of the office. He gave her a nervous grin and she sighed, shaking herself inwardly. She had forgotten Harry was coming to visit.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said softly, feeling the need to sit down. "I didn't realize you were here yet."

"Obviously," he replied with a chuckle.

He frowned when he saw her weary expression.

"Hey…you okay?"

She nodded bravely, leaning against the door. "Yeah, I-I'm fine. Is Ginny meeting us at the Three Broomsticks?"

Harry gave her a reproachful look. "Hermione, you know I can always tell when you're lying. Come on, what happened?"

She sighed heavily. "It's nothing, Harry. Really." He kept advancing, staring at her with those penetrating eyes. "Look, I'm fine! It's just…Severus and I…we had an argument."

Harry blinked in surprise. "Like a _real_ argument?"

"Yes," she choked out, the tears starting to protest at their confinement. "About the wedding. Well…about Ron, really."

"What happened?" he asked, looking thoroughly confused.

She supposed it was only natural for him to be puzzled—she and Severus had been getting along splendidly for two years now. She couldn't remember the last time he had made a snide comment to her that wasn't in jest. And although Severus and Harry, or really Severus and any of her friends, were never able to reconcile their differences and get along the way she and the ex-Potions Master had, most of them were able to accept the friendship between Hermione and their old professor.

Harry had been the most surprisingly supportive, seeing how the relationship brought her so much joy. She hadn't been able to confide in Ron about the way Severus made her feel like she had been able to with Harry. Ron would only grit his teeth and go into a silent jealous rage, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth.

"I-I gave him the wedding invitation and he…he told me he couldn't…_wouldn't_ go," Hermione said slowly, replaying the way he had slowly lost the little smirk he always wore around her as he read the invitation in her head. "He said that he wouldn't attend a wedding that would end in divorce. He thinks Ron will be unfaithful to me."

She met Harry's eyes reluctantly and saw the sympathy there. She pushed off from the wall, stalking over to the window to stare out at the snow-covered grounds.

"I don't know why I let him get to me…," she continued quietly. "I-I said some things that I really shouldn't have. I just couldn't believe that he…didn't want me to be happy. I didn't understand. Harry, why would he say those horrible things about Ron? Can you explain it? Why isn't he happy for me?"

She turned to face him as she addressed her best friend and he shook his head solemnly.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't know what to tell you," he murmured.

She smiled weakly. "You wanna know the worst part?" she asked tearfully.

"What's the worst part?" he prompted obediently.

"I actually miss him right now," she said with a hollow chuckle.

Harry smiled indulgently and stepped forward, wrapping Hermione in his embrace. She clung to his robes, resting her chin against his shoulder as she sobbed. He rubbed her back soothingly, gently cooing to her every once in a while as she reached a peak in her cries.

* * *

Over the next few months, neither Minerva nor Hermione would speak to Severus, and both sat away from him at the Head Table. His existence thus felt more miserable than ever, even though he had been in the same position of longing for Hermione from afar before. Dumbledore kept trying to give him advice, but he managed to swiftly escape each time the subject of Hermione was brought up. He still couldn't figure out how every single person on the staff—with the exception of Hermione—knew about his feelings for her.

The sympathetic glances from all of them were driving him insane rather quickly. He almost took to avoiding all meals, but it was his only real chance to see Hermione, besides staff meetings. Students felt his wrath and dreaded going to Defense Against the Dark Arts, which the other teachers took note of and, rather than scold him for his cruelty, actually used as more reason to _pity_ him.

Hagrid was the worst, next to Dumbledore and Trelawney. Since he had had the most intimate connection with Hermione throughout her seven years there, the big oaf alternated between telling Severus how to mend things with her and becoming extremely protective of the witch. Trelawney repeatedly told him that she could see great happiness in his future and not to give up hope, in spite of his constant assurances that he had no need of her "talents."

Dumbledore tried to slip Hermione some Amortentia on Valentine's Day. She immediately noticed at breakfast and told the rest of the staff that it was a lovely attempt at a prank, but she already recognized the scents that would get her into trouble with that particular potion. Still, Severus noticed that her eyes had glazed over and she kept glancing discreetly in his direction. He wondered if she suspected that it was him, rather than the Headmaster, who had done it, but she never confronted him.

The months continued to pass by agonizingly slowly. Minerva eventually forgave him and went back to simply offering her "shoulder to cry on" once in a while. The rest of the staff finally realized that he didn't want their help and went back to treating him as usual, with the occasional sympathetic glance whenever the Weasley-Granger wedding was brought up. Hermione buried herself in work and wedding plans with all the focus and energy she used to put into her studies—she barely noticed the existence of anyone around her. Even Crookshanks was feeling slighted.

Severus only knew this because the half-cat would sometimes manage to slip out of Hermione's quarters without her notice and he often found himself carrying the escape artist to Minerva, who would, in turn, return Crookshanks to Hermione. He wanted to do it himself, but an audience with Hermione was clearly unwelcome. She was barely aware that he was alive.

Severus gradually resigned himself to the fact that she would be marrying Weasley, and not him. A part of him cursed at his cowardice for not being bold enough to make his feelings known long ago. Perhaps then she wouldn't be marrying someone so unworthy of her. But then he would always remind himself that Hermione held no such regard for him. It would only have ruined any chance of friendship and left him in a pit of misery.

* * *

"Ron? Are you home?" Hermione called as she slipped into the dark flat. "I just forgot my schedule…."

There was no reply, so Hermione put her keys back in her pocket and began looking for the missing planner. She flipped through some letters and notes he had in the foyer, but it wasn't buried there like she thought. She was about to venture further into the flat to find it when one of the notes fell to the floor. She quickly swept it up and went to set it back on the table. Something on it caught her attention, and she lifted it up again. Beneath her thumb was the mark of lipstick, as though someone had kissed the note.

Hermione's brow knitted together. She never kissed her notes to Ron, and even if she had, she hardly ever wore makeup. Especially enchanted makeup, which made the kiss disappear and then reappear, as though the lips were smacking against the parchment right then. She supposed it could have been Molly, but still…something was amiss. She narrowed her eyes and began reading the lines.

"_Ron—Meet me at Dragon's Heart at 1. Love, Teresa Tubble._"

The Dragon's Heart was a hotel hidden in downtown London. Anger started to build up in Hermione, but she told herself to relax and do a little more investigating before she convicted her fiancé of this crime. Still holding onto the note, she picked up a fistful of Floo powder and flung it into the fireplace. Her fingernails tapped irritably at the floor while she waited for someone to appear.

"Hello, Dragon's Heart Inn. My name is Bella. How may I help you?" an overly cheerful woman greeted her as she bent down.

Hermione was in no mood for this, but she told herself to relax again. There was no need to snap at the woman—she'd done nothing wrong.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could tell me if you have a Teresa Tubble registered at the hotel," she replied evenly, eyeing the papers Bella was holding.

"What was the last name again?"

"Tubble."

"Okay, hold on just a moment…." Bella hummed to herself as she flipped through the pages of an old brown book. "Ah! Yes, we do."

"And are there any guests registered with her?"

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she waited for the words that would seal Ron's fate.

"Yes, there are. A Mr. Ronald Weasley," Bella said, her voice still annoyingly chipper. "Is there anything else I can do for you, ma'am?"

Hermione froze, staring past her into the lobby. A few witches and wizards passed through the doors, levitating their bags into the hotel and chatting merrily. Bella was asking her something.

In a hollow voice, she finally said, "Thank you," and pulled her head from the fireplace. She stood slowly and stared ahead, into the living room. There was Ron's ugly green couch. Her vision blurred and she could no longer see the details of the floral pattern. It took her a moment to realize that she was crying.

The naive part of her immediately began making excuses for her friend of nine years, boyfriend of two. Maybe Teresa was a fellow Auror and they were on a stakeout. Maybe Teresa was a distant relative and they were just catching up. Maybe Bella had the wrong guest name. Maybe Teresa was just using his name to cover up who she was _really_ there with.

_Shut up_, the other part snapped. There was no way to excuse this; no way to explain it away except one: Ron was having an affair. Hermione had known for a while that Ron was getting impatient with her refusal to consummate their relationship, but she thought he would be able to hold out a little longer. They were getting married in a few months, for Merlin's sake. _Apparently I'm not worth waiting for…_, she realized, still staring at that disgustingly green couch. It wasn't a pretty shade at all—it looked like a dead tree.

Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione ripped the note to shreds and was advancing on the couch. She began clawing at the fabric on it, digging her fingernails into a loose flap and shredding it. Stuffing came puffing out and she tore at it, throwing it all around the room until there was no longer a steady supply. Her rage turned on his lamp next. She picked it up and flung it against the far wall, watching with no sense of satisfaction as the ceramic pieces broke into a million pieces.

The magical energy surrounding her flew as out of control as she did. The curtains flapped wildly as though they were being whipped about by a violent wind, although the windows were closed. The lights began flickering on and off and the lamps broke one by one.

Hermione kept tearing at everything she could get her hands on. It didn't matter what, as long as she could shred it. She kept grabbing for more and more of Ron's things, as though violating his possessions would make up for the pain she felt. She pulled his clothes out of the closet, throwing them about the room without a care as to where they landed. Just when she tore a mirror off the wall and was about to smash it, she heard someone call out for her to stop.

The mirror was ripped from her hands and someone took her wrists, trying to restrain her. She fought against them, pounding her fists into their chest and trying to wrench herself out of their grasp.

"Hermione, please."

Neville's familiar voice managed to wind its way beyond the fog of her ire, calming her down enough for her to stop fighting him. In place of the quickly fading fury, tears began pouring down her cheeks in waves. Hermione sobbed in pain and sank toward the ground. The adrenaline began to leave her system, leaving her broken and exhausted. Her hands ached horribly and her face felt hot from tears.

Neville lowered her to the ground and plopped down next to her. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and began rubbing her back, rocking her back and forth. Hermione gripped his shirt with shaking hands and rubbed her face in it, as though to wipe away the tears. She felt him kiss the top of her head as he kept on holding her, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in her back.

"It's okay, Hermione. It's okay; I'm here," he said softly, waiting patiently for the tears to die out.

Hermione didn't know how long she cried, but when she was done, she was so physically and emotionally drained that she just lay there a bit longer. Neville patted her gently and kept quiet for the time being. Eventually she pulled together enough energy to sit up and found that they were sitting next to the bed. She looked around at the mess she had created and couldn't manage to feel anything but exhaustion. She leaned back against the edge of the bed and sighed, eyes closing.

"What happened?" Neville asked quietly.

She shook her head slowly. "I found out that Ron is having an affair."

Hermione was surprised to find how easy it was to say that now. She didn't even feel anything when she said it. It was just a fact.

"Oh…. I-I'm sorry, Hermione. I-I…that's awful," Neville managed, shifting uncomfortably. "I…um…I'm really sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Neville," she said flatly.

There was a moment of silence and Hermione took the opportunity to close her eyes again. She could have fallen asleep right there, but luckily Neville placed his hand on her shoulder and it sent her eyes wide open again. She glanced at his hand and then met his eyes. The strength in his gaze—and in his hand—was surprising and she found herself smiling weakly at him.

"Thank you, Neville," she said, squeezing the hand on her shoulder lightly.

Neville nodded once and slowly retracted his hand. Hermione looked around at the mess again and heaved a sigh, pulling her knees closer as she prepared to stand.

"I suppose I should start cleaning this up," she commented, sighing.

She heard him chuckle and looked at him sharply.

"You are the nicest person I've ever met," Neville explained, grinning at her.

She looked at him questioningly and his grin widened.

"You're going to clean up your cheating fiancé's apartment?" he asked pointedly.

She glanced around the room again. "Well, I'm the one who tore it up, so…."

He snorted and covered his mouth when she looked at him again, eyes shining with amusement. Her tired mind slowly caught up and Hermione fought off a smile. She was unsuccessful in keeping from laughing when she saw the look on Neville's face. They laughed together for a few moments and she felt her mood lightening. A few last giggles escaped her before they both made their way to their feet.

Neville sobered a bit when she pulled out her wand to start repairing the damage.

"Is there anything I can do to help out?" he asked sincerely, watching her carefully.

Hermione's wand stilled and one answer came to mind. She almost blurted out that he could take her to Severus. The need for his presence, his arms around her, the sound of his voice, the smell of the potions brewing overwhelmed her and Neville must've seen the change in her expression, for he spoke before she could.

"Tell you what: why don't I clean this up for you and you go on home?" he suggested. "You know, get some rest. I'm sure you need it."

That was certainly true.

"That's very sweet of you, but it's not your—"

"Hermione, please. Let me take care of this for you. It may be the only thing I _can_ do in this situation," he murmured, eyes pleading.

She sighed, frowning slightly. She didn't want Neville to clean up a mess he hadn't made, but she supposed he was right. She _did_ need rest. She pulled him down for a hug and then smiled at him weakly.

"You're a good friend, Neville. Thank you."

He smiled. "Hey, you'd do the same for me."

Neville patted her on the back and she smiled up at him more genuinely. Then, with a sigh, Hermione left the flat behind and went home, to Hogwarts. She managed to reach her quarters without being seen and, once there, flopped into bed. She hugged her pillow against her stomach as tight as she could, willing herself not to run to Severus right that moment. After all, after what she'd said to him, how could she do it? Would he even want to see her at this point? She rather doubted it.

* * *

It was a week after the incident that the whole wizarding world seemed to explode with the news. Harry Potter's best friends were breaking up and _everyone_ knew about it. Rita Skeeter held an exclusive interview with Weasley's mistress. The rest of those involved were reluctant to speak to the press, although Ginny Weasley did tell them that she was definitely _not_ siding with her brother. Potter frequently told them to stay out of it, and that Hermione was in enough pain without their intrusion, which, of course, led to the damnable journalists printing articles about Hermione's alleged attempts at suicide.

Weasley was taking refuge at the Burrow, mostly due to Arthur's soft spot for his children. Molly, as far as Severus had heard, was deeply ashamed of her son and was refusing to speak to him.

Hermione's only escape was her work—and she clung to it fiercely. Students and teachers alike were even kinder to Hermione than usual. Dumbledore refused to allow any press into Hogwarts, and both Severus and Hermione were grateful for that. Minerva took Hermione under her wing again, staying with her almost at all times. The students paid extra special attention during her class—even the Slytherins. Hermione's friends visited Hogwarts often now. They stood around her protectively whenever they visited, and tried every little thing to cheer their friend up. Nothing seemed to help.

Of course, he heard all of this through various sources who were trying to convince him to go to her. And oh, how he was tempted. The Slytherin in him wanted to be able to gloat a little and tell her that he'd warned her. But that was only a mere fraction—a tiny sliver—of his need to see her. He needed to be able to hold her and comfort her, to assure her that she wasn't unworthy. That it was _Weasley_ who was unworthy.

But Hermione didn't seem to feel the same need to be close to him as he did for her. She went about her duties just as usual and didn't pay him any more mind than she had before she knew Weasley was cheating on her. He feared that she really had meant what she said all those months ago—that she didn't want him in her life anymore.

It was when he was on one of his nightly patrols of the school that Severus' fear was confirmed.

* * *

Severus heard voices around the corner and tensed in preparation—it was rare, now that the Golden Trio had left Hogwarts, that he got to deduct points from students for being out after hours. Just as he was about to swoop over them, one of the voices raised and he suddenly recognized it as Ronald Weasley's. Running through his mental map of the school, Severus realized he was near Hermione's quarters and froze there, listening in now.

"You can't just do this…just like that!" the dunderhead protested angrily.

"You cheated on me," Hermione said scathingly. "I think I have a right to end this however I want to."

"I-I'm sorry. It was just the once. I was weak. I never meant to hurt you!" Weasley pleaded rapidly. "Please, let's just go back to the way things were!"

"I can't, Ron. I can't go back," she said, softer now.

There was a moment of silence and Severus waited on tenterhooks, wondering if they'd heard him breathing.

"It's your fault anyway," Weasley snapped suddenly. "If you would have just done it with me, then I wouldn't have been looking elsewhere!"

"Oh, excuse me, for wanting to wait and do the right thing," Hermione bit back. "I'm _so_ sorry I _dragged_ you to the Dragon Heart's Inn and shoved you on top of her."

"You sound just like Snape," Weasley replied bitterly.

"Not this again," she groaned, heaving a long-suffering sigh.

"He's what came between us, and you know it! Ever since the Yule Ball, you've been all about him."

"The Yule Ball? We got together at the Yule Ball, Ron! How can you say I've been all about Severus since then?"

"That's when you danced with him, too," Weasley spat. "You might've gone with me then, but you've wanted him ever since then."

"How can you say that?"

"_Please_. Even that night you were grinning at him like a stupid schoolgirl with a crush. You haven't stopped, either." His voice lowered. "You've never smiled at me that way, like I'm the only one you want."

There was a pause and Severus held his breath, waiting for Hermione's reply. He had had no idea the two of them argued about him, and he found it fascinating that Weasley was so obviously jealous of him. Him! The man who would supposedly have to hire a woman to get a date.

"You're right," Hermione said, very quietly now. "I never have. I can't forgive you and I certainly can't go back to the way things were, but I am, in a very strange way, grateful to you. I've been in a world of denial for two years now. I know what I want and I know who I love now."

There was another silence and Severus' mind was screaming for Weasley to ask the question he was burning to find out the answer to. _Ask her who, you useless ponce!_, he thought irritably. _For once in your life, do something intelligent and find out who!_ But Weasley didn't say a word and it was Hermione who finally broke the silence.

"It's late, and you have your ring back, so please, just go," she said at long last.

Weasley grumbled something and Severus heard his footsteps ringing out on the stone floor. Severus flattened himself against the wall, hoping the shadows would hide him. As it was, Weasley didn't even glance in his direction as he rounded the corner and stomped away. Severus rolled his eyes—weakness must have been Weasley's middle name, he decided.

His attention turned to Hermione now and he warred with himself internally. He wanted to see her, but if he came around the corner now, she would probably know he'd been listening. Then, with a boost of courage, he stepped away from the wall and cautiously turned the corner. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Hermione.

She was leaning against the door leading into her quarters, which wasn't particularly stunning in and of itself. But she was clad only in a dark green nightgown that seemed to hug her skin. The sleeves were short, like a t-shirt, and the neckline dipped down into a modest V. The bottom came only to the top of her knee, leaving the rest of her legs and bare feet exposed. The candlelight came in from behind her, making her look almost ethereal. Severus caught a glimpse of a ceiling to floor bookcase, and Crookshanks rested happily in her arms while she stroked him. He seemed to make the picture complete.

Severus tried to push past the sudden lump in his throat, but he couldn't seem to form words. He must've made some sort of noise, though, for Hermione looked up from the half-Kneazle sharply and stared right back. Her eyes ran over him in the same slow, hungry manner as he was sure his had over her. For a moment, he dared to hope, but as she opened her mouth to speak, he smashed it down again. _Perhaps hungry isn't the right word…perhaps disgust is more appropriate_, he thought bitterly.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked warily.

"I was just on my rounds."

He forgot to sneer, he realized a moment too late.

"Oh."

She had ceased petting Crookshanks, much to his displeasure, and instead twirled bits of the orange fur in her fingers. She lifted the half-cat to cover herself more completely, apparently just realizing how little she was wearing. Severus didn't know what to say now that he'd come. Several desires battled for control within him, making the silence seem nonexistent to his fighting mind.

"You…you didn't hear…I mean…," she said softly, not meeting his eyes. "You didn't hear me and…."

"And that witless twerp arguing?" he cut in harshly, more out of hatred for Weasley than out of spite.

She stared at him for a moment, hurt evident in her eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone he was here. The newspapers would—"

"I'm well aware of the nonstop coverage over Weasley's…blunder," he sneered, almost ruining it with a self-satisfied smirk when she met his eyes at last. "I—"

"Don't even say it," Hermione said evenly, eyes narrowing at him.

Severus nearly faltered at that, but he gathered himself and glowered right back.

"What?"

"I know what you're thinking," she snapped.

"Oh? And what am I thinking, Miss Granger?" he rejoined, watching her eyes widen.

"That you told me so. And if I'm right, and you came here to gloat," she replied, regrouping admirably, "then you can just go back to the dungeons you crawled out of and leave me alone."

Before he could say another word, the infuriating Know-It-All turned on her heel and slammed her door shut. Severus cursed under his breath and stomped his heel on an obliging bug. _Very good_, he told himself. _Now you've not only lost any chance of becoming anything remotely romantic to her, but you've also managed to alienate her completely. What a find you are._ He growled irritably and stormed away to let out his self-loathing in a long war with a bottle of Firewhiskey.

* * *

"Boy, what a fantastic ass," Ginny commented after Hermione finished regaling she and Harry with the tale of her midnight encounters with Ron and Severus.

"I can't really blame him," Hermione said honestly, wringing her hands guiltily. "I was awful to him when he told me Ron would…."

"Well, he doesn't have to rub it in," Ginny countered, nodding superiorly.

Harry was watching Hermione closely from across the booth, taking sips of his butterbeer every once in a while. Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead as she recounted the events of the night before. Ron's appearance had been unwelcome, but she'd been glad to be rid of the cursed ring he'd given her when he promised to love her forever. Severus' visit had been just as surprising, but there was no joy in the memory. He had been as hateful as if it were four years ago and she was just Harry Potter's best friend, the annoying Know-It-All he loathed so much.

"Is there something you're not telling us?" Harry asked quietly, leveling that penetrating stare at her again.

She shifted a bit. "I…I don't think so."

"Hermione," he said firmly, shooting that look at her again.

She huffed. "Look, it's just that…it really hurt to see him and have him treat me that way again. It's like every bit of progress we've made is just…gone. Which I know…I know it's my fault. I should have believed him and everything, but I was just so confused. I've _been_ confused for so long now. It's strange to know…."

"Know what?" Ginny asked curiously.

Hermione fidgeted with her napkin, crumpling it up in her fist. They waited for her to reply in silence and the conversations around them filled in the gaps. She didn't know if she could tell them and trust that they wouldn't react negatively. And she certainly didn't know if she could trust her own voice. It would be the first time she admitted it out loud and that was a frightening notion. It would make it real and she would have to face it head-on, instead of hiding from it as she had been doing for years.

She met Harry's gaze and took a deep breath, finding reassurance in his kind eyes.

"I'm in love with Severus," Hermione told them, gaze falling to the napkin in her hands.

When she was met with only silence from the other side of the booth, however, she couldn't help but look up. Ginny looked surprised, but no disgust or disdain was in her gaze. Harry, on the other hand, was grinning like an idiot.

"So you finally faced up to the truth," he said cheerfully.

"What? What are you talking about?" Hermione demanded, puzzled.

"Hermione, you've been in love with the man for years now," he explained patiently. "I've been waiting for you to get it for quite some time."

"What?! You knew I was in love with him and you didn't say anything?!" she practically screeched, drawing some of the other customers' attention. "And hey, how did _you_ know when _I_ didn't even know? And how long have you known?"

Harry laughed, squeezing Ginny's shoulders. "I only didn't tell you because you thought you were so in love with Ron. I mean, come on, can you honestly say that you would've said, 'Oh, you're right, Harry. I _am_ in love with Professor Snape. Thank you for telling me' two years ago?"

Ginny was giggling madly at her boyfriend's impression. Hermione glared at her briefly before turning back to Harry.

"Well…no, I guess I wouldn't have," she replied, hating that she couldn't come up with anything better.

"I rest my case," Harry said, grinning again.

"You didn't answer my other questions," Hermione reminded him irritably.

"Oh, right. Well, I knew when you didn't know because of that night at the Yule Ball," he explained, still smiling at her.

"Why does everyone go back to that?" she muttered.

"Because it's the night it first became noticeable that you and Snape are attracted to each other." He smirked when she looked up at him in surprise. "Come on. You went out on that dance floor without a moment's hesitation, and you had the biggest grin on your face I have ever seen on you. I knew in that moment that if you were going to be happy with anybody, it was gonna be with Snape."

Hermione squirmed in her seat, fighting a smile. It was true—no one had ever made her quite as happy as Severus.

"Plus you were totally hot for him and _that_ was obvious," Ginny added, nodding sagely.

"Ginny!"

"Well, it was. You were practically drooling." She flashed Hermione a grin. "But don't worry. I think he was almost drooling, too."

"Course he was!" Harry exclaimed. "He wanted to swoop her up and brew up a little something in the dungeons, if you know what I mean."

"Okay, I think we've talked about this enough," Hermione interrupted, before Ginny could add another shade to the red in her cheeks.

"Don't be embarrassed!" Ginny said soothingly. "Desire is a perfectly natural feeling that leads to a perfectly natural—"

"So why didn't you stop me and Ron from getting together if you knew back then, Harry?" Hermione squeaked, avoiding Ginny's eyes.

Ginny and Harry exchanged long-suffering glances before he answered.

"Well, I thought maybe I was mistaken and you really loved Ron. But then your apprenticeship started and you were so happy every time you came to visit…I just realized I was right. And I was gonna tell Ron. You know, to warn him, but then I realized he didn't love you, either."

"And you didn't see fit to tell me that, either?" she snapped, frown deepening.

"Look, Hermione, if I had come up to you and Ron and told you that you didn't love each other, I probably wouldn't be here now, to help you out when it matters." He smiled lightly. "You just confirmed that I did the right thing when you told me about your argument with Snape. You were too deep in denial to have understood why I was telling you what I was."

Realization dawned and Hermione shifted uncomfortably again, gazing at him apologetically.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I—"

"Hey, don't worry about it." He squeezed Ginny again. "I went through denial myself. And now look how happy I am."

Ginny grinned at him and planted a kiss right on his lips, then turned promptly back to Hermione.

"Okay, now, back to the lust thing. Why are you so squirmy every time someone mentions sex?" she asked interestedly.

Hermione's cheeks brightened again. "Ginny!"

"See? You're doing it again. What's the big deal? I mean, you've lusted after guys before, right?"

"After Snape, she has," Harry reminded her.

"Can we not discuss this right now? Please?" Hermione begged.

"Well, you have, haven't you?"

"Yes! But I'd rather not talk about it!"

"It's probably a virgin thing," Ginny commented.

"Probably," Harry agreed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair and took a long drink from her butterbeer. It was certainly true that she'd lusted after guys before, although her list was rather small, to tell the truth. Viktor had been the first to claim her attractions, but since the feelings faded by the time she saw him again, she could only assume that it was hormones. Then there was Severus. She supposed she had felt something for him almost the entire time, but the first time she realized it was at the Yule Ball, when he asked her to dance.

She remembered listening to her friends chatter about what a wonderful time they were having and asking her how she and Viktor were doing. She'd tried to quell their misconceived notions, but they were too busy prattling on about their dates to notice. And then he'd said her name. It was the first time he'd ever used her given name before, but the way it slid off his tongue and from that deep, silky voice…it made her knees weak and sent a tingle up her spine.

He could've asked for anything right then and she would've given it to him, no questions asked. The tingles started to spread throughout her body as soon as his hand came into contact with hers. She'd felt warm all over and she was so afraid he would notice her lust and be disgusted that she could feel her hands shaking, and she avoided his eyes at all costs. He kept talking to her, though, and she found herself rambling at every question. The nervousness melted away when he started twirling and spinning her about, though the desire did not.

When she'd tripped and landed against him, she realized just how terribly she was burning for him and she was terrified that he could see it…and confused as to why she felt that way. And then Ron had come and broken her concentration on those thoughts, and she was able to brush it aside for the time being. Now those feelings came back to haunt her and she was left with no outlet this time. Instead Hermione was left to long for Severus from afar, knowing that he would never feel the same.


	3. Part 3

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine.

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for all your wonderful reviews. I appreciate it more than you know, really.

* * *

4 Months Later…

The summer passed uneventfully for both Severus and Hermione. The papers eventually found new news in the looming wedding between Harry and Ginny, so Hermione no longer had to hide herself in her Hogwarts quarters, or in the flat she kept for holidays, to keep from being bombarded. Ron returned to his flat shortly after the engagement was announced, but he didn't return to his friends' orbits.

In spite of Hermione's assurances that she would be all right with Harry asking Ron to be his best man, both bride and groom refused to let Ron back into their good graces until he apologized properly. It was the same with Neville, Luna, and the rest of her friends. Hermione was grateful for their loyalty, and she couldn't help but praise her friends for having grown up so much since their years together at Hogwarts.

Over the summer months, Hermione found herself spending excessive amounts of time looking through bridal magazines and stores with Ginny, helping pick out dresses for the bridesmaids, and teaching Harry how to put on a cummerbund. The wedding was a helpful distraction from her unrequited love, but her friends were not. Now that she'd admitted it to herself, they took every opportunity to try and convince her to tell Severus, claiming that he felt the same way. Which she still doubted.

Severus spent the summer at Spinner's End, as usual. He loathed the place, but it was, technically, his home. So he stayed there, attending to school business when Dumbledore asked him to, and reading books and fiddling with potions the rest of the time. Minerva sometimes came to have lunch with him, but her main goal seemed to be to get him to speak to Hermione, so he tended to dread her visits.

When school began again, Severus and Hermione were able to successfully avoid each other, even in staff meetings, when the rest of the teachers would try to force them to sit next to each other. Defense Against the Dark Arts was a dreaded hour for all students, but no student was afraid to commit minor mistakes in front of Professor Granger. She was even kinder than usual, letting the more trivial things pass without point deductions. Potions was more exciting the year before that, and it showed in the students' mere tolerance of having to go to the class.

Hermione didn't realize how much she was letting her suffering show until her third year class, the week after school began.

* * *

The students came up to hand in their samples and left the room one by one, busily discussing the day's class. Just when Hermione thought the last of them had gone, one of the shiest girls in class approached the desk. Kerena Vere was a Gryffindor, and she had shown a particular interest in Potions the year before. She handed over her sample, offering Hermione a small smile. Hermione returned it briefly and went back to grading the essay she'd been on, unaware that Kerena was still standing there.

"Professor Granger?" she asked quietly.

Hermione shot her gaze to the girl, surprised. "Yes? What is it, Miss Vere?"

"I…I was just wondering if everything was okay," Kerena said, fidgeting with the end of her sleeves and rocking on her heels.

"Yes, of course." She frowned, puzzled. "Why do you ask?"

"Well…you just don't seem happy," she replied, shrugging. "Last year you…you seemed excited about class and stuff. And now you…you don't. You seem sad."

Hermione set down her quill carefully and considered the child for a long moment. It wouldn't do to lie to her. After all, she was a role model, and the students looked to her and other adults for guidance. She sighed heavily and leaned forward in her chair.

"Well…I am," Hermione said at last.

Kerena frowned with concern. "Why?"

"I—"

"Is it because you and Professor Snape don't get along anymore?" she blurted, immediately looking embarrassed at her bold question.

The surprise on Hermione's face melted away and she smiled humorlessly.

"I guess you could say that."

"Well…maybe you could still make up," Kerena suggested, smiling weakly.

Hermione sighed. "There are some things that…even grownups can't solve, Miss Vere."

Kerena drooped. "That blows. Professor Snape is a lot less grouchy when you get along."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at that, and Kerena smiled a little.

"I appreciate your concern, Miss Vere," she said after a moment. "But don't worry about me. I'll be okay." She smiled. "Now, hurry on to class."

The girl nodded quickly and trotted out of the room, leaving Hermione to contemplate ways she could keep the students from further noticing her misery.

* * *

"You _have_ to let me intervene," Dumbledore begged.

He and Minerva stood at the window, watching as Hermione and Severus hurried down opposite paths in order to avoid each other. They'd both been out for a walk, as Minerva and Dumbledore had suggested to each of them that they should get some fresh air. The idea was that they would run into each other and be forced to talk things out. Unfortunately, Hogwarts' grounds offered too many paths of escape. Severus was scurrying back to his dungeons even as they spoke.

"The last time I let you intervene, you slipped an illegal substance into Hermione's tea," Minerva scolded sternly. "If I had known you were going to go that far, I wouldn't have let you."

Dumbledore looked slightly abashed. "At least she didn't drink it!"

"Only because she's too clever for you," she countered, shaking her head.

"They were so close!" he exclaimed, turning away from the window in frustration. "So close to coming together, and then…what happened? Suddenly the entire thing fell to pieces."

"Severus and Hermione are both highly intelligent people," she reminded him. "You can't expect them to figure out their own feelings, let alone each other's!"

"I've always found it irritating that the cleverest of wizards are the most dull-witted when it comes to emotions," he groused, popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

"That's because you'd like to pair up the entire world," Minerva replied, sliding into the chair across from him.

"Perhaps it has something to do with their lack of social graces," he pondered, staring up at the sleeping portraits.

"And what are you going to do about that?" she scoffed. "Give them a Social Ease Potion?"

Dumbledore scowled sourly at her while she smirked at her own joke.

"Well, we have to do something!" he said determinedly.

"What are you going to do that we haven't already tried?" she asked, sighing. "They simply refuse to break."

"Perhaps a smidgeon of Veritaserum would be—"

"No! No magic, no potions, and none of your silly plans." Minerva shook her head at him. "I told you: you'll only make it worse."

"How could it get any worse?" he asked pointedly. "I even sent them to chaperone the Hogsmeade visit together and they simply split up."

"We can't force them, Albus," she said resignedly. "They will either have to come together on their own, or live without each other."

Dumbledore looked at her in alarm. "What? Leave them miserable and alone? My dear Minerva, would you really be able to watch Severus and Hermione go through their lives in such a horrible manner?"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic." She waved her hand dismissively. "We're both so old we won't have to see them finish being miserable anyway."

He frowned sourly again while she chuckled and sipped at her tea.

"Maybe…and then…hmmm…that might just work," he said thoughtfully, tapping his chin.

"Oh, dear. What on earth are you going to do to the poor creatures?"

He perked up. "You're going to let me?"

"It depends on what you're planning!" she said severely.

Dumbledore twinkled his eyes and leaned over the desk, whispering the plot conspiratorially to Minerva.

* * *

Severus stalked through the hallway toward Dumbledore's office. He'd been summoned during class, so he knew he would be late, but in his current mood, he couldn't have cared less. He snarled at a first year, who ran off as quickly as humanly possible, and stopped in front of the gargoyle. He muttered the password and it opened up to him promptly.

When he arrived in the office, there was only Fawkes there, along with the sleeping portraits. Severus huffed and sat back in one of the chairs to wait. The silence soon got to him, however, and he began pacing impatiently. Ever since that awful night when he'd alienated Hermione forever, he had been filled with an insatiable restlessness. He could no more sit still than he could break an Unbreakable Vow, which made sleeping even more of a problem than usual.

Dumbledore still hadn't shown up, and Severus was growing steadily more impatient. Where was the old man?! On one of his rounds, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and pulled out his wand. There stood Trelawney, gripping her throat and coughing and hacking. He sighed irritably and put the wand back in its place, glaring at the stupid woman.

"What are you—"

"On the night of the full moon," Trelawney gasped in a throaty, awful voice, "she will die. Her time will end in the black trees. He will lead her to her doom."

Severus blinked rapidly, stunned to realize that Trelawney was having an actual prophecy for once. Fear gripped him as his mind automatically leapt to conclusions and he forced himself to be calm.

"Who will die?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at the woman.

"She will die."

"Who?" he snapped, gripping her shoulders. "Who will die? And who will lead her?"

Trelawney's vision seemed to clear and she coughed, holding her throat as she hacked away the last of the phlegm. She readjusted her huge glasses and smiled up at Severus.

"Oh, Severus. When did you get here?" she asked cheerfully.

Severus sneered and released her distastefully, wiping his hands on his robes.

"Where is the Headmaster? I must speak with him immediately," he hissed, looking around the room as though he would find the man hiding there somewhere.

"I'm right here, my boy," Dumbledore replied, from behind him.

Severus whirled. "She's seen something. A real prophecy."

"Did she?" he asked, smiling indulgently.

Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Trelawney, who simply smiled right back. He patted her shoulder gently.

"You may go now, Sybil. I believe Severus has something of importance to tell me," he said kindly, twinkling his eyes at her.

Trelawney smiled again and left the room in a hurry. Severus rolled his eyes in annoyance as Dumbledore took his time in sitting down in his chair, pausing to pet Fawkes for several moments beforehand. He picked up a handful of lemon drops.

"Lemon drop?"

"No! She said that someone will die," Severus snapped urgently.

"Who?"

"She wouldn't say!" He scowled, resuming the pacing he'd begun before Trelawney appeared. "All she said was that it would be the night of the full moon and that someone would lead 'her' into the 'black trees.'"

"The black trees?" Dumbledore echoed, sounding puzzled.

"I can only assume she meant the Dark Forest," he concluded, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"Someone will be killed in the Dark Forest…."

"A woman," Severus corrected, pausing briefly in his pacing. "She said it would be a she."

"Perhaps it was a false alarm, Severus. You know that at times Sybil believes—"

"This was real!" he insisted sharply. "Believe me, she was not her usual eccentric self."

"Then we will have to take special care not to let any students go wandering," Dumbledore said seriously. "The full moon is on Saturday. We will simply have to warn the students and be on guard for anything unusual."

Severus nodded sharply and stopped pacing again, taking a deep breath.

"Now, about what I called you up here for…."

* * *

On Saturday, Dumbledore announced to the students and staff that there were to be absolutely no students, of any age, out of the castle after six that evening. Hermione was puzzled by this odd and seemingly random institution of a rule, but when she noticed Severus' impatient, anxious behavior, she knew something had to have happened. She asked Dumbledore about it, but he informed her he would explain at the staff meeting that evening.

So, Hermione shrugged it off and went about her duties for the day. She started out grading papers, finishing up around lunch. After grabbing a bite in the kitchens, she found a secluded spot near the lake to read for a while and listen to the waves gently lap against the rocks. By the time evening rolled around, she was nearly finished with the book, but she reluctantly put it away in favor of rounding up stray students to get them inside.

Just after she'd sent a group of Ravenclaw fourth years inside, Hagrid came hurrying up from his hut, looking out of breath.

"Hermione!" he called out, slowing to a walk as he came up. "I been lookin' for you!"

"I was just out here," she said, smiling pleasantly at her old friend.

"Listen, I need yer help. There's a sick Thestral in the herd," Hagrid explained in between breaths. "An' bein' that yer the new Potions teacher, I was hopin' that you could lend a hand and brew somethin' for the poor beast."

Hermione grimaced. Thestrals made her uncomfortable, and not just because of what they represented. She still remembered holding tight to what looked to her like thin air, flying through the clouds with the rest of her friends and wanting to scream. She really hated flying.

Nevertheless, she hastily agreed to help Hagrid and brewed up exactly what he asked for. On their way out, she asked Professor Sprout to tell Dumbledore why they wouldn't be at the meeting. Then, side by side, they headed into the Dark Forest to find the sick Thestral.

Hermione had been in that stupid, creepy place far too many times for her taste. It was forbidden for a reason—there were many dark creatures out there just waiting to snatch you up and eat you. Of course, Grawp wasn't going to eat her. He was just going to snatch her up. She still hadn't quite been able to get him to understand that it was the picking up part in general that was bad.

She often wondered why on earth they built a school next to a forest with werewolves, centaurs, trolls, giant spiders, and much more hidden deep within it. Then again, Hogwarts was probably old enough to have been there before the forest was fully grown and evil. But why would all those evil, wild creatures want to infest a forest so close to a school?

While those circular thoughts occupied her, Hermione had yet to notice that she and Hagrid had passed through the same area at least twice before and hadn't seen one Thestral. They continued along a path in silence, although she thought she heard him singing under his breath at one point. She was just considering whether or not this long of a trek was worth it when Hagrid suddenly stopped. She glanced around and up at him, watching the confusion work over his face.

"Huh, that's odd…."

"What's odd?" Hermione asked, voice thick with apprehension.

"I don' remember this place," Hagrid replied, whirling about and looking around them.

Her eyes widened. "We're lost?"

* * *

Severus leaned back in his chair with what appeared to be relative ease to the rest of the wizards milling about the room. Inside, his agitation was starting to get the best of his self control. Where on earth was Hermione? She had never missed a staff meeting before, and there was no reason for her to miss one now. Perhaps she was just rounding up students and making sure they went inside.

The door opened and he nearly jumped out of his seat, only to find that it was only Pomona, arriving from the greenhouse. Growling under his breath irritably, Severus folded his arms tighter across his chest and hunkered down further in his seat. Where was she?

Dumbledore waved for everyone's attention and they all took their seats around him, leaving an empty spot to his left that he was sure they meant for Hermione.

"All right, all right. To get things started, I've been approached by several—"

"Albus!" Minerva called as she hurried into the room. "Is Hermione here?"

She scanned the faces of the other teachers rapidly and Severus shot his gaze to the older woman, trying to hide his interest from the rest of them.

"I'm afraid not, Minerva. What's wrong?" Dumbledore asked, smiling patiently.

"One of the students has come down rather ill and Poppy has run out of supplies for the potion he'll need," Minerva explained hurriedly.

"Oh!" Pomona blurted, smiling pleasantly. "I forgot. Hermione asked me to tell you that she and Hagrid wouldn't be here tonight, as one of the Thestrals has been taken ill as well. They've gone into the Dark Forest—"

Severus shot to his feet, agitation turning to mind-numbing fear for her. Images of Hermione being cut on a branch and then attacked viciously by those stupid creatures flashed in his head. Then werewolves showed up and the scenario just proceeded to get worse and worse, making his sallow skin go even whiter and his breathing heavy. The professors all stared at him for a moment, then turned their attention back to Pomona.

"Um…to take care of the poor thing," she finished, eyeing Severus curiously.

"Headmaster, we must—"

"And we will, dear boy," Dumbledore said soothingly, as though he could read his mind. "First, you will go and brew the potion for Poppy. I'm sure she would appreciate it. As soon as you are finished, you and Minerva may come out and search for them with the rest of us."

Severus gnashed his teeth angrily. He wanted to be out looking for her himself, not trapped in the castle doing…busywork. He mastered himself quickly, however, and nodded sharply.

"Yes, Headmaster," he hissed, turning to follow Minerva while the rest of the teachers began gathering together to form a search party.

* * *

"This is ridiculous!" Hermione moaned. "It shouldn't be this hard to find our way back! I mean, it's a castle, for Merlin's sake!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. We must've got turned around," Hagrid said abashedly as they walked.

Hermione rolled her eyes irritably, growing rapidly impatient with their situation. The end of her wand lit their way, but she still couldn't seem to find Hogwarts. They had traveled deeper in than she thought, apparently, for the brush was thick and the creatures that scurried out of her wand light were many. She stopped, pinching the bridge of her nose and coaching herself to relax and just think.

Just as she had gotten her heart to stop racing quite so fast, she heard a familiar thundering sound coming in from their left. She raised her wand and whipped toward it, staying close to Hagrid.

"What is it?" he asked, looking confused.

"I think it's…."

A centaur leapt over the bush in front of them, clearing it and rearing as soon as he landed. His hooves struck out at them, sending Hagrid to one side and Hermione to the other. She lowered her wand, trying to show that she meant them no harm, but as more and more came galloping through and the chaos grew, she realized the effort was futile and just focused on not being trampled.

Hermione couldn't see Hagrid for the life of her, through all the tails, haunches, and hairy men's chests. Although, she supposed one of the hairy chests could have actually been Hagrid's beard. Just when she thought she spied him, she felt a sharp tug on her gut. Her feet left the ground seconds later and she was suddenly whipping through the forest, rocking with the bounce of the centaur's gallop. She yelled out for Hagrid, but the herd was already too far away.

She tugged on the centaur's arm around her waist, trying to loosen it, but he wasn't budging. Of the possibilities, the only reasonable one she could figure was to let them take her wherever they were going and then try to reason with them. There were far too many of them for her to fight them. And besides, she had always gotten along with the centaurs when she happened to encounter them. It wouldn't do to spread bad blood now, even if they'd started it.

They went on for what seemed an eternity and Hermione felt herself growing more nauseous with every stride. The centaur's arm was tugging on her stomach and the quick lunch she'd grabbed was starting to feel a bit unhappy in its current environment. She kept trying to tug his arm a little looser, but he seemed to think she was trying to escape, for he only grabbed her tighter. She promptly stopped tugging.

They were in a part of the forest she'd never seen before when the centaur carrying her started to make his way to the outside of the group. The rowdy creatures were laughing for some unknown reason—she was too queasy to try and figure out what. They passed through a thicket and the only warning she had before she hit the ground was the sudden feeling of release around her stomach.

Hermione rolled a few feet away from where she'd landed and groaned, pressing a hand to her stomach as she stood. The laughing centaurs were barely in her view, but she glared at their retreating forms anyway.

"That was completely unnecessary!" she shouted after them. She groaned and rubbed her stomach again. "And uncomfortable…," she added, quietly this time.

She brushed herself off with her free hand, still holding tight to her wand with the other. She was surrounded by nothing familiar that she could see. Just…trees. And they were everywhere. She huffed and glanced down at the torn up ground where the centaurs had come through. The only choice was to try and head back the way they came. She started down the path purposefully, but her nose smacked into something hard and unmerciful.

Hermione pinched her nose, grimacing at the sting quickly traveling to her eyes. She lifted a hand and pressed it against whatever she had run into. From her hand spread an almost transparent blue wall, which went over her head and began to form a dome-like shape, closing her into the thicket. She was trapped.

* * *

Severus strode toward the edge of the forest, where he could see Dumbledore and Filch standing. Minerva was still hustling to keep up with him—he could hear her breathing heavily as she trailed behind. He put on an extra burst of speed and came up to the Headmaster, not bothering with any pleasantries.

"Have they found anything yet?" he demanded, eyes flicking from Dumbledore to the blackness that had swallowed her.

"Not as yet, Severus, no. We are still look—"

"Professor Dumbledore, sir!" a familiar voice called urgently.

Hope tightened Severus' chest as he heard that bumbling oaf come running through the trees, but it deflated immediately when he realized Hermione wasn't behind him.

"Hagrid! We've been looking for you!" Dumbledore greeted him cheerfully. "Are you quite all right?"

"Yes, sir, but—"

"Where is Hermione?" Severus spat, glowering at the stupid lout accusingly.

"That's what I'm tryin' to tell ye!" Hagrid exclaimed, looking panicked. "The centaurs—they-they came an' they scooped her up! It's like they've gone mad!"

"Can you take us to where she was when they came?" Severus asked urgently, before anyone else could speak.

"Well, we…we were a little lost when they…."

His eyes narrowed. "Then how did you find your way back here?"

"Some of the other professors found me. I was tryin' to get back to tell ye!" Hagrid explained, looking most upset.

"It's quite all right, Hagrid. We will find her," Dumbledore assured him, patting his arm. "Minerva, Severus, why don't you go try to catch up while Hagrid, Mr. Filch, and I patrol the borders?"

He didn't have to ask Severus twice. He pushed past Hagrid roughly and disappeared into the trees, never looking back to see if Minerva had followed. It was too dark to see two feet in front of him, so he lit his wand with a flick and swept through the brush, scanning the forest for any signs of movement.

The centaurs wouldn't be too hard to find, he was sure—they were louder than his students. It was what they would do to Hermione until he got there that he was worried about. He'd seen what they did to Umbridge, and while it was amusing to him at the time, the same wounds and bruises on Hermione gave him a shudder and a surge of anger.

Severus saw figures moving ahead and hurried after the light from the professors' wands. He called out to them and the group stopped.

"Severus!" Filius called back once he was in full view.

"Have you found anything yet?" he asked without preamble.

"Just Hagrid, but he went back—"

"I saw him. What about Hermione? Any sign?" Severus demanded impatiently.

"Not yet. We think they headed this way, but it's also quite possible they went further in, through that path," Filius replied, gesturing in each direction.

Severus barged off through the brush, yanking his robes along with him when they snagged on the branches.

"Severus, you shouldn't go alone!" Pomona called after him.

He ignored them and kept on searching for her, forcing his way through the overgrown forest. In his hurry, he almost didn't notice a torn-up path through a patch of ferns. He halted and kneeled slowly, lowering his wand almost to the ground to look at the tracks. Sure enough, they were hooves. He shot back up and began running down the trail they'd left, hoping he was going in the right direction.

* * *

Severus' legs were starting to burn, but he forced them to keep moving in spite of their need for rest. He was seriously considering heading back in the opposite direction to see if he'd been incorrect about the way they were going. He hadn't seen another group of teachers since he left Filius, Pomona, and the rest. He wondered briefly if they had given up on finding her before deciding he really didn't care.

There was a flash of light somewhere ahead, and he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but there it was again. A flash of red and then of blue appeared before him. He picked up his pace again and trotted toward the source, still following the path the centaurs had created. There was another flash, and this time he was close enough to see someone standing in a clearing that wasn't too far off.

Severus pushed himself back into a run, heart racing with both exhaustion and hope. And there she was, facing away from him, with her wand pointed at something. He called out to her, but she didn't turn right away like he expected. Nonetheless, he kept coming, and she whirled, looking irritated. When she saw him coming, her irritation suddenly melted away and she smiled brightly, running toward him.

His heart leapt, but Hermione suddenly stopped, pressing her hand against an invisible wall. Or at least he'd thought it was invisible. He skidded to a stop in front of her, watching as pulsing blue magic spread out from her hands to reveal a dome that prevented her from escape. Severus approached slowly now, looking through the translucent blue prison at Hermione's resigned face.

He pressed a hand to the wall and felt warmth begin to hum along his hands.

"How did this happen?" he asked her, scowling at the wall that kept him from her.

When he met her eyes again, he saw that she was shaking her head and pointing to her ears. The pointing shifted to her mouth and she took a deep breath, focusing her eyes solely on him. She began mouthing something. "_It creates a sound barrier. I can't hear you and you can't hear me._"

Severus scoffed, shooting a death glare at the dome again. He turned his attention back to Hermione once more and mouthed, "_What have you tried?_"

He saw her huff, and it seemed odd without the accompanying sound. "_Just about everything._"

Severus paced outside the perimeter, running his fingers along the wall, searching for weakness. He could feel Hermione's eyes on him the entire length of it, and when he returned to her, she shook her head sadly, pressing her palm against her cage again. He waved for her attention and mouthed, "_We'll get you out. I promise._" He hesitated a moment before pressing his hand over hers.

Hermione smiled warmly up at him and suddenly he could feel the heat of her hand against his. She seemed to feel it, too, for they both looked at their joined skin with surprise. None of the rest of the dome had faded—only enough to let their hands meet. Severus quickly entwined their fingers and started to tug her through, for fear that it would close up before she could get out. Hermione made it out to her shoulder—the hole just wasn't wide enough for the rest of her.

With a disappointed look, she backed through the hole again and released his hand, watching the hole reseal itself. Severus took only a moment to put the pieces together. Their mutual touch from both inside and outside would enable her to escape. All they had to do was make the hole large enough. He flicked his eyes to hers, about to explain through much mouthing, but the light that always appeared in her eyes when she had figured something out was there. She smiled at him.

Clearing his throat, Severus put away his wand and stepped up closer to the dome, letting his boots meet the wall before he carefully pressed his chest up against it. Hermione, for her part, lowered her eyes and inched closer. If he wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw her cheeks flushing, but it was hard to see in the darkness. She pushed her chest against the wall and it hummed between them for a moment before melting away just as suddenly as it had when their hands met.

Severus squeezed his arms through and wrapped them around her waist, pulling her out so quickly she barely had time to react. To his surprise, her arms went around him and she snuggled up close to his chest, breathing heavily.

"Oh, thank you, Severus," Hermione moaned, squeezing him tightly. "I thought I was never going to get out of there."

He smothered a smile that wanted to surface and readjusted his grip, pulling her up against him a bit more. It felt good to just hold her like this, with her bushy mane tucked underneath his chin. He felt her sigh and wondered if she was ready to let go, but her hold on him never loosened. Curious, he ducked his head a little and found that she had her eyes closed, and she was smiling peacefully, as she rested against him. Blinking in surprise, he lifted his head again and slowly, cautiously, began stroking her hair. She didn't protest, so he kept petting the soft curls until she pulled away, looking…reluctant?

"D-do you know the way back?" she asked him uncertainly, even as she pulled out her wand to spread some light.

Severus nodded sharply. "Just this way. Come."

He spread out his arm to beckon her and, to his shock and pleasure, Hermione ducked under it and kept close to him. Now with a self-satisfied smirk, Severus began guiding her back to the castle.

* * *

For what felt like the hundredth time that night, Severus was surprised. Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers weren't awaiting them outside the forest, nor were they in Hagrid's hut or in the foyer. He wanted to have Hermione checked over by Poppy, but she insisted she was all right and that they search for the others, so they went to Dumbledore's office. And there they all were, sipping tea, like nothing had happened.

"Severus!" Dumbledore greeted them boisterously when he saw them at the door. "You're returning earlier than expected. I should've known you would figure it out quickly."

He twinkled at them. Severus and Hermione exchanged a long glance and then turned equally threatening gazes onto the assembled staff.

"You set us up?" Hermione asked quietly, but there was a steely edge to her voice that Severus knew could easily turn vicious.

The rest of the staff had the grace to look ashamed and hid their faces behind their teacups.

"Well, I wouldn't say it was so much setting up as a gentle nudge in the right direction!" Dumbledore said cheerfully.

"Gentle? You call that _gentle_?" she snapped furiously. "We could have died!"

Severus was caught between fuming and admiring Hermione's beautiful rage.

"You were protected the entire time," Minerva assured her, looking rather displeased herself. "I made sure of it."

"Well, I didn't _feel_ very protected! I felt scared out of my mind!" Hermione snarled at the Headmaster. "And what about Severus? You let him go out there alone, in the Dark Forest! Even a wizard of his power could be killed out there! That's why it's forbidden! Or have you forgotten?!"

"He was protected as well," Dumbledore assured her, although the twinkle in his eye had gone out a bit.

"You made me believe she was going to die," Severus said softly, drawing the attention of the others away from Hermione.

She looked at him with wide eyes, seeming a bit surprised. "What?"

He sighed and took pity on her. "He had Professor Trelawney fake a prophecy indicating that someone would die in the Dark Forest."

Trelawney squirmed in her chair, eyeing Hermione apprehensively.

"You made her _fake_ a prophecy?" she gasped, whirling on Dumbledore again. "Are you completely insane?!"

Dumbledore blanched, shifting in his chair.

"What was this all about, anyway? What were you 'nudging' us towards?" Hermione demanded, folding her arms and breathing so hard she could have been spewing fire and Severus wouldn't have been surprised.

"Well, the two of you have been avoiding each other. And I thought that perhaps with a nudge in that direction, you might finally admit to your feelings."

It wasn't clear who he was speaking to, and both Hermione and Severus fidgeted with embarrassment before pushing past it to get back on track with their anger.

"I can't _believe_ the rest of you went along with it!" Hermione admonished sharply. "Especially you, Minerva."

"I only agreed because he told me no one would get hurt," she put in, shooting her own glare at Dumbledore.

"Oh, and that makes up for him putting us through _hell_?" she shot back, face red and eyes wild.

Everyone—even Dumbledore—dropped their heads and then, seconds later, immediately began sputtering apologies to the both of them. Dumbledore and Minerva could see the rage in Severus' face and eyes, though he wasn't vocal about it like Hermione. They all started to notice his reddening face and crackling eyes and starting groveling at both Hermione and Severus' feet in equal measure.

Hermione glanced at him with a long-suffering look and threw up her hands, stomping out. The clamoring apologies grew louder then and Severus shot Dumbledore a last fiery glare before sweeping out after Hermione. They walked together, silently fuming about the stupidity of the other professors until they reached where he would have to go down and she would have to start going up. She stepped onto the staircase and he thought she was going to leave him without another word, but she turned on the second step and smiled weakly at him.

"Good night, Severus," Hermione said quietly.

He swallowed. "Good night, Hermione."

* * *

Hermione tossed and turned for the rest of the night, much to Crookshanks' annoyance. She couldn't believe Dumbledore had almost gotten Severus killed because she wouldn't admit her feelings to him. And the rest of them! How could they have gone along with it? It was just the kind of inane, but dangerous, plans she could imagine her friends coming up with.

At that horrifying realization, Hermione's stomach tightened and she sat up, disturbing Crookshanks again from his rest. The wedding would be soon, and then after the honeymoon, Ginny would have extra time on her hands again. She could just see Ginny coming up with something like this. And she might not be so careful!

There was only one solution: she had to tell Severus how she felt. As terrifying as that notion was, she knew that if she didn't, the games and the plans would just continue until one of them really _did_ get hurt. The thought of Severus hurt made her shudder and grip her blankets tighter.

Hermione almost leapt out of bed that instant, but then she realized the hour and forced herself to lie back down. Crookshanks cautiously popped back up onto the bed and peered over her legs, watching to see if his mistress was going to move again. When she just lay there, he stepped gingerly over her legs and made himself at home next to her stomach. Her hand stroked at his long fur and he purred, smiling smugly.

* * *

In the morning, Hermione woke up sneezing on cat hair. She rubbed her nose viciously and looked down at the still-sleeping Kneazle accusingly. She propped herself up on a hand and pulled a clump of orange hair out of her hair. Crookshanks stretched dramatically and sat up, rubbing against her sweetly.

"Thanks a lot, Crooks," Hermione said irritably, flicking the fur away. "Just what I need, choking on cat fur."

He blinked at her innocently and she scratched behind his ear absently for a moment.

"Well, I suppose I should get dressed and go to my doom," she muttered, lowering herself onto an elbow. "Of course, I could always put it off. I don't have to tell him right _now_. Right?"

Crookshanks purred obligingly and she smiled at him.

"Knew I could count on you."

After a few more minutes wherein she struggled with getting Crookshanks to let her stand up, Hermione put on the simple black robes she wore on Sundays and headed out to the Great Hall for breakfast. Severus wasn't there, but the rest of the staff was, so she sat as far away from them as possible. It was more difficult to ignore that many people at once, but she somehow pulled it off.

She picked up the book she'd started the day before from her rooms and went back outside to finish it. By the time she'd finished reading every last syllable, it was lunch time again. She picked up another boring, Severus-less lunch in the Great Hall and went back to her rooms. Crookshanks was waiting inside, shooting her the most displeased look she had ever seen on anyone—besides Severus.

"What did _I_ do?" Hermione asked mockingly, gesturing to his full food and water bowls. "You've got everything you need. I even spent a half hour with you in my lap this morning. What more is there in life?"

She slid her book back onto the shelf and glanced back down at the half-cat, who had followed her there. He was tapping his tail impatiently.

"Hm. Well, we've covered food, water, and attention." She peered at him thoughtfully. "Oh! I see. You're mad because I haven't talked to Severus yet, aren't you?"

Crookshanks' rump lifted off the floor and he chirped up at her, rubbing along the bottom of her arm chair. She laughed.

"So you _want_ me to be hexed within an inch of my life?" Hermione asked him, lifting him up from the floor and cradling him against her shoulder.

He purred and promptly began licking her nose.

"Okay, okay. I'll go down right now and talk to him," she assured him, shaking her head. "I swear. You and your weird fetishes."

Hermione kissed the top of Crookshanks' head and set him on his feet, then braced herself as she left the room and headed for the dungeons.

* * *

Severus had spent the day in his rooms, venturing into each one as necessary, but going no further. Seeing Dumbledore and the rest of them was too much to ask of his self-control. He supposed he could have left his wand safely in his quarters, but then he might've throttled them instead. Besides, after their awkward parting the night before and Dumbledore revealing his feelings to her, he doubted Hermione wanted to see him, even if she _had_ used his given name for the first time in months.

Presently, he was in his classroom, grading some horrendous first year papers he'd been putting off the day before. Actually, he'd been putting them off for a total of three days, and it hadn't lessened the headache he had just thinking about them.

He scribbled a "P" onto one paper and set it aside and had just looked down onto the next when he heard a quiet, but familiar knock. He nearly leapt out of his chair when he recognized it as the secret knock Hermione had come up with years ago. His heart pounded faster and he set down his quill carefully, forcing his voice to sound calm when he called for her to enter.

The door cracked open a fraction and Hermione's hand came into view, followed by her face.

"Um…a-are you busy?" she asked uncertainly.

His heart dropped to his stomach. She must've remembered what Dumbledore said to him. Great, here it came. The rejection he had worked so hard to avoid was now chasing him down. Nevertheless, he sighed and shook his head a fraction.

Hermione hurried inside and shut the door behind her before walking up to his desk. She almost sat on the corner, as she used to, but as soon as the wood touched her rump, she hopped away, as though she'd been singed. She cleared her throat, hands wringing in front of her. Severus leaned back in his chair, trying to appear calm to her, since he certainly didn't feel it inside. His stomach was churning.

"Um…I-I just came to…." Her eyes met his and she cleared her throat again. "I just wanted to…. You see, um…in the interests of-of…." She huffed and rolled her eyes. "This is ridiculous," she muttered.

Severus stood slowly and placed a tray of potions samples he'd created onto one of the shelves behind him, lengthening the time he wouldn't have to watch her disgust with him. When he turned back around, Hermione was leaning against his desk, hands gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles were turning white. She chewed on her lower lip, not meeting his eyes.

"Look…ab-about what happened last night," she began again, swallowing. "I-I'm sorry they put you through all that. And I wanted to thank you for rescuing me…again. Um, an-and to prevent anything like this from happening again…I…in-in the interests of us not dying because they're so stupid…I just thought it would be best if I just confessed and got it over with, s-so they won't bother us anymore."

She grimaced when she met his eyes, looking a bit anxious. Severus stared at her, brow furrowing in confusion.

When she didn't go on, he prompted, "Confess what?"

Hermione cleared her throat again. "I…I'm in love with you."

He stared. He cleared his throat. He stared some more.

"I beg your pardon?" he managed at last, and was horrified to realize that his voice had gone high-pitched and squeaky, thanks to the lump lodged firmly in his throat.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I'm in love with you…." She paused. "See, I wasn't going to tell you, because I know you pretty much hate my guts ever since I told you I didn't want you at the wedding. Which I totally understand, because I was being a total idiot and all, but, anyway, I was just going to let it drop, but then I admitted it to my friends and, well, they've pretty much been bugging me about it ever since they found out.

"And I thought Ginny would quit it since Harry asked her to marry him, but instead I think she almost got worse, and, you know, she kind of reminds me of Dumbledore with her stupid little plans that don't ever work out so well, like the one he hatched last night. Still really sorry about that, by the way. And the entire staff has also been pushing me as well and I'm sure you've noticed how they make us sit together at staff meetings and all and I wasn't thinking any of _them_ would do anything that insane, but then they did and I was just thinking that Ginny will probably start doing it, too, once the wedding craze is over and all, and I'd really rather you not die, because…because I love you.

"Which I didn't realize until a few months ago, of course. It was mostly due to Ron being a prat that I figured it out, though, because it gave me a chance to reanalyze my feelings and I realized that I wasn't even that sad about him cheating on me and I just wanted to be with you, but I knew I couldn't be and then I got really freaked out, remembering all the times I wanted to…do stuff with you. But then I figured out that I've just been in denial for like the past three years and that I never wanted Ron, I just wanted you. Which I know I should really stop saying because you already don't like me anymore and the whole 'I love you' thing is probably making you want to vomit and—"

"Hermione," Severus said firmly, finally able to regain control of his faculties.

"I…um…yeah?" she squeaked, looking a bit apprehensive.

"Close your eyes," he commanded, softening his voice now.

She frowned uncertainly. "You're not going to hex me, are you?"

He looked down his nose at her, moving his mouth into a scowl. She sighed and took a deep breath before finally closing her eyes. He saw her eyelids move a fraction and folded his arms, frowning deeply.

"No peeking," Severus said sharply.

"I wasn't!" she protested, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

"You were—"

"I swear! I was just…my eyelashes got caught together and—"

"Shh."

"Okay."

Severus allowed himself a small smile as Hermione huffed impatiently, although she kept her eyes shut. Keeping his movements quiet, he shifted closer to her and gradually bent down closer, keeping his hands hovering over her sides, but not touching. He felt her breath on his skin and, very cautiously, pressed his lips against hers.

Hermione didn't react at first and he started to panic that he'd done the wrong thing. He repeated her words in his mind, certain that he couldn't have misheard. And then her lips started to move against his, her hands smoothing up his arms. He was in absolute heaven. It had been years since he'd last kissed anyone, and it was more wonderful than he remembered. Or maybe it was just wonderful because it was her.

Severus put his hands gently on her hips while Hermione's hands curled behind his neck, fiddling with his hair absently while her lips explored his. Her eyebrows rose when she felt his tongue teasing at her mouth, and the burning she had once felt when their fingers would brush seemed to compound rapidly. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, and she hungered for more of his touch, but still…he hadn't exactly answered.

With great reluctance, Hermione pulled her head back and avoided his lips when they came after her again. She smiled when he opened his eyes, shooting her a look that on anyone else would have been described as a pout.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked grumpily.

"I just wanted to take a minute to ask you the same thing," she replied playfully, grinning at him.

"I should think that would be rather obvious," he said lowly, eyes on her lips.

Her cheeks flushed at his silky words. "Yes, but…you haven't actually said anything that would indicate that you…you know…."

Severus heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I hope you don't expect me to describe my emotions in quite as lengthy a speech as you did."

His hands rubbed against her sides and she shook her head, swaying a bit in his arms.

"No…I just want to know that you feel the same way I do," she explained, bringing her hands down his chest to play with one of his buttons.

She felt his fingers lightly press against her chin, guiding her gaze back to his. His touch traveled down her jaw and he began pulling the hair from her neck.

"I love you, Hermione," Severus said firmly, as though he wouldn't have it any other way. "I have for a long time."

She smiled, heart racing a little faster as he dipped down to kiss her again. This time, her lips met his willingly and she began tugging his buttons loose, one by one. When Severus felt her arms wrap around his waist, underneath the top two layers, he pressed one more kiss to her lips before looking down at her quizzically.

"I thought you wanted to wait…," he said curiously, remembering her words to Weasley the night he overheard them arguing.

Hermione smirked at him, incredulous. "You would wait for me?"

"Well, yes," he replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She grinned and stole another kiss. "Well, I think we've waited long enough. I mean, three years is a _very_ long time. And, you know what they say, good things come to those who wait."

Severus smirked down at her, pulling her body closer to his. "I _have_ been very patient," he murmured against her ear.

Hermione moaned as he apparently hit a sensitive spot on her neck. "Patience should _always_ be rewarded."

Severus smirked at her again and lifted her up onto the desk.


	4. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine.

* * *

"Well, the plan was a success!" Dumbledore said cheerfully, taking a deep drink of his tea.

"A success? Neither Severus nor Hermione have looked at or spoken to anyone else on the staff but each other since that fiasco," Minerva snapped irritably. "And that was _weeks_ ago."

"Mostly because they've been in his quarters or teaching most of the time," he countered, twinkling his eyes at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Just because they've finally gotten their act together doesn't mean the plan was a success. It means the two of them don't want us doing more things like this badly enough to admit their feelings."

"Ah, but they admitted to it _because_ of the plan!" he retorted, grinning.

Minerva sighed. "All right. Keep your delusions, then. But don't bring it up at the wedding."

"Why would I bring it up at Harry and Ginny's wedding?" Dumbledore asked, frowning.

"I meant Severus and Hermione's wedding," she said sharply. "Don't you listen to the students talk at all anymore?"

He blinked. "No."

Minerva shook her head and took another sip of her tea, giving up on trying to talk to him.

* * *

"So…that's how it happened," Hermione concluded, smiling across the booth at Neville.

Neville smiled. "Well, at least Ron got what he deserved."

She shifted closer to Severus, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders obligingly.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you hear? Teresa Tubble left him for Viktor Krum," Neville replied, grinning widely.

Hermione snorted. "He can't hold onto anybody, can he?"

"Nope. Not one."

"Oh, that reminds me. I wanted to thank you again for cleaning up his apartment for me," she said, leaning across the table a bit.

Severus arched a brow and Neville shifted uncomfortably.

"What?"

Hermione's eyes immediately went up to Severus and her cheeks colored a little.

"Well…um…after I found out that he'd been cheating on me," she explained slowly, "I…kind of…freaked out and…tore his apartment to bits with my bare hands."

"It wasn't pretty," Neville commented.

Severus merely smirked and kissed the top of her head, which automatically seemed to make her feel better. She cuddled up closer to him and rested her head back on his shoulder.

"Um…about that, though," Neville said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yes?"

"I…I didn't clean it," he confessed, avoiding her eyes.

"You didn't?!" she exclaimed, aghast.

"No. He deserved it!" he said defensively, shifting in his seat again.

Any further comment by Hermione was cut off as Severus threw back his head and laughed.


End file.
